R.C. R0SE. 
 
 Hi TY OF 
 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
 presented to the 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO 
 by 
 
 FRIENDS OF THE LIBRARY 
 
 MR. JOHN C. ROSE 
 
 donor
 
 GEMS FROM THE FRENCH
 
 VICTORIE-N SARDOU
 
 GEMS FROM THE FRENCH 
 
 THREE ROMANCES 
 
 BY 
 
 THEOPHILE GAUTIER, 
 PAUL FEVAL A ND 
 VICTORIEN SARDOU 
 
 TRANSLATED BY M. DE L- 
 
 BRENTANOS 
 
 WASHINGTON CHICAGO LONDON
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1888, 
 
 BY 
 BRENTANO'S 
 
 A II Rights Reserved. 
 
 PRESS OF STRAUSS ft KI.EE, 
 NBW YORK.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 FA6X 
 
 JETTATURA 9 
 
 THE BLACK PEARL 147 
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE 203
 
 JETTATURA. 
 
 BY THEOPHILE GAUTIER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE good ship Leopold, the large steamer 
 which plies between Marseilles and Naples, 
 had just doubled Cape Procida. The pas- 
 sengers were all on deck, suddenly cured of 
 their sea-sickness by the sight of land, a more 
 efficacious remedy than Malta pills and other 
 recipes prescribed by physicians for this 
 purpose. 
 
 A group of Englishmen were assembled on 
 the upper deck, reserved for first-class pas- 
 sengers. They were all close-shaven, their 
 cravats were tied with religious care, and their 
 high, straight collars were as stiff as bristol- 
 board ; their hands were encased in Suede 
 gloves, and the varnish on their boots shone 
 brightly in the sun. This group was com- 
 posed of lords, members of the House of 
 Commons, great merchants, Regent Street 
 tailors, and Sheffield cutlers all very serious, 
 
 9
 
 10 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 very dignified, and unspeakably bored. There 
 were women in profusion, too, as English- 
 women are not as sedentary as the females 
 of other countries, and rarely miss an op- 
 portunity to get away from their little island. 
 These charming persons murmured the sac- 
 ramental phrase : " Vedi Napolie pot mori" 
 with the most delicious English accent, 
 while they consulted their tourist guides 
 or made notes of their impressions in their 
 little memorandum-books, without paying the 
 least attention to the tender glances cast 
 upon them, a la don Juan, by a number of 
 conceited Parisians who hovered about this 
 bevy of loveliness, while the indignant mam- 
 mas read long lectures to these fair misses on 
 the impropriety of the French. 
 
 Three or four young men puffed away at 
 their cigars as they walked up and down the 
 quarter-deck, and eagerly noted the ever- 
 changing panorama which was passing before 
 their enchanted eyes. It was evident that 
 these young men were artists, judging by their 
 straw hats, their sack coats ornamented with 
 huge horn buttons, and their wide duck 
 trousers, without taking into consideration 
 the fact that they wore their moustaches a la 
 Van Dyck, and their hair either curled & la 
 Rubens or cut straight a la Paul Veronese. 
 
 The third-class passengers were grouped
 
 JETTATURA. II 
 
 in the bow of the steamer, leaning against the 
 rigging or seated on coils of rope, munching 
 away contentedly at the remnants of their 
 provisions, and totally oblivious of the mag- 
 nificence of their surroundings. 
 
 It was a glorious day ; the blue waves 
 came in gentle ripples, having barely the 
 strength to obliterate the foaming wake of 
 the vessel ; the vapor from the smoke-stack, 
 which formed in clouds in the beautiful sky, 
 gradually dissolved in snowy flakes, while the 
 paddle-wheels, revolving in a shower of liquid 
 gold, joyfully churned the waters as if con- 
 scious of the proximity of a port. 
 
 The long line of hills extending from Pau- 
 silippi to Vesuvius which forms the wonder- 
 ful gulf in which Naples lies like a nymph re- 
 posing on the banks of a stream after a bath, 
 began to unfold itself in the distance in purple 
 undulations, and stood out in bold relief against 
 the azure sky ; several little white specks on 
 the dark background denoted the presence 
 of villas, scattered here and there over the 
 country. The sails of the fishing-smacks as 
 they entered the harbor glided over the blue 
 waters like the feathers of a swan scattered 
 by the breeze, proving the activity of man 
 even in the midst of the majestic solitude of 
 the ocean. 
 
 A few more turns of the paddle-wheels and
 
 1 2 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 the ship comes in sight of the Chateau of 
 Saint Elm6 and the Convent of St. Martin, 
 which stand out prominently on the summit of 
 the mountain at whose base Naples is situated, 
 rising far above the church steeples, the house- 
 tops, the terraces of the hotels, and the facades 
 of the palaces. Before long the Chateau 
 d'CEuf, crouching on its foam-washed reef, 
 seemed to be advancing to meet the steamer, 
 and the jetty, with its revolving light, stretched 
 itself out like an arm holding a torch. 
 
 At the extremity of the bay, Vesuvius now 
 changed the bluish tints which distance had 
 lent it, for a more vigorous color ; her sides 
 were furrowed with ravines and streaks of 
 congealed lava, and from her summit, pierced 
 with little holes like a pepper-box, small jets 
 of white smoke ascended every now and then. 
 
 Chiatamone, Pizzo-Falcone, the wharf of 
 Santa Lucia, lined with hotels, the Palazzo- 
 Real, with its myriads of balconies, the 
 Palazzo-Nuovo, and the Arsenal were now in 
 view, while the ships of all nations inter- 
 mingled their masts and spars like a forest of 
 leafless trees. 
 
 At this moment a passenger, who had not 
 stirred out of his cabin during the entire trip, 
 made his first appearance on deck. Whether 
 he kept to himself on account of sea-sick- 
 ness, or whether it was because he did not
 
 JETTATURA. 13 
 
 care to mingle with the other passengers, is 
 not known ; moreover, this spectacle, novel 
 to the others, had lost all charms to him, as 
 he had seen all these interesting points time 
 and again. 
 
 He was between twenty-six and twenty- 
 eight years old, at least a stranger would have 
 formed such an opinion at first sight. His 
 hair was of that peculiar dark brown which the 
 English style auburn. In the sun it shone 
 like a dull copper, while in the dark it was al- 
 most black ; he had a forehead which would 
 have delighted a phrenologist, an aquiline nose 
 of noble curve, well-shaped lips, and a round 
 and symmetrical chin ; and yet all these fea- 
 tures, regular though they were, did not form 
 a pleasing ensemble. They lacked that mys- 
 terious harmony which softens the outlines 
 and moulds them to perfection. There is a 
 certain legend which tells of an Italian paint- 
 er, who, wishing to represent the archangel, 
 composed a mask of incongruous beauty, 
 and in this manner gave his portrait a certain 
 terrible expression without resorting to horns, 
 inverted eyebrows and a contracted mouth. 
 The stranger's countenance produced just 
 such an effect. His eyes, especially, were 
 extraordinary; his black eyelashes contrast- 
 ed strangely with the peculiar pale gray of 
 the pupils and with his dark brown hair ;
 
 I 4 ROMA N TIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 then, the thinness of the bones in his nose 
 made them appear closer together than the 
 principles of drawing permit them to be, and 
 their expression was really indefinable. When 
 they were not resting on something, a pecu- 
 liar melancholy and languid look was depicted 
 in the gleaming orbs ; if they fixed themselves 
 on any one, the eyebrows immediately con- 
 tracted and frowned until they formed a per- 
 pendicular wrinkle in his forehead ; from a 
 pale gray, the pupils would turn green, tinged 
 with little black spots, and streaked with 
 yellow ; the glance they emitted was sharp, 
 almost painful ; then, suddenly, everything 
 acquired its former placidity, and this person 
 of mephistophelic appearance once more as- 
 sumed the bearing of a young man of the 
 world, a member of the Jockey Club, who is 
 about to spend the season in Naples, and is 
 thoroughly contented to tread on a pavement 
 of lava in preference to the unsteady deck of 
 The Leopold, 
 
 His attire was elegant, though not conspic- 
 uous : a frock-coat of dark blue, a polka- 
 dotted tie carefully knotted, a waistcoat of 
 the same pattern as the tie, light gray trou- 
 sers, and a pair of fine patent-leather shoes 
 completed his toilette ; his watch-chain was 
 of plain gold, and his eye-glasses dangled 
 from a neat silk ribbon ; his well-gloved
 
 JETTATURA. 15 
 
 hand twirled a hickory walking-stick, orna- 
 mented with a silver knob on which a coat-of- 
 arms was engraved. 
 
 He took a few steps on the deck, then, 
 leaning over the taffrail, he permitted his 
 eyes to wander toward the pier on which car- 
 riages were stationed and where a crowd of 
 idlers had assembled looking anxiously for- 
 ward to the arrival of the steamer. 
 
 A flotilla of small boats had already set 
 out from the pier to storm The Leopold, loaded 
 with hotel runners, servants seeking employ- 
 ment, facchini and other rascals of an assorted 
 type who had long since learned to look upon 
 strangers as their natural prey ; each rower 
 was doing his utmost to reach the steamer 
 first, and the oarsmen exchanged vile epithets 
 and coarse oaths, calculated to frighten those 
 not acquainted with the habits of the lower 
 class of Neapolitans. 
 
 The young man with the auburn hair, in 
 order to see better had placed his eye-glasses 
 on his nose ; but his attention, attracted by 
 the concert of yells and shrieks which arose 
 from the flotilla, concentrated itself on the 
 boats ; no doubt the noise annoyed him, for 
 his brows contracted, the wrinkle in his fore- 
 head grew deeper, and the pupils of his eyes 
 turned from gray to a greenish yellow. 
 
 Suddenly a huge, foam-crested wave, roll-
 
 1 6 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 ing in from the open sea, raised the steamer 
 high in the air and rushed on towards the pier, 
 where it dashed itself in its mad fury against 
 the promenaders, who were completely taken 
 by surprise with this unexpected shower-bath ; 
 then, rolling backward, it brought a number 
 of the small boats into violent contact, upset- 
 ting three or four facchini, who fell headlong 
 into the water. The accident was not serious, 
 as these rascals all swim like fish, and a mo- 
 ment later they reappeared on the surface, 
 their hair matted closely together, and spitting 
 out the salt water by the mouthful. They 
 seemed to be as surprised at this sudden im- 
 mersion as was Telemachus, the son of Ulys- 
 ses, when Minerva, in the guise of the wise 
 Mentor, threw him headlong from the sum- 
 mit of a high cliff into the sea to tear him 
 away from the love of Eucharis. 
 
 Behind this strange tourist, standing at a 
 respectful distance, alongside a pile of lug- 
 gage, was a little groom, a species of dried- 
 up-old-man-of-fifteen, a veritable gnome in 
 livery, resembling one of those dwarfs whom 
 Chinese ingenuity alone can produce ; his face 
 was as flat as a board, and his nose was 
 scarcely perceptible, looking as if it had been 
 compressed in childhood, while his eyes had 
 that docile expression which certain natural- 
 ists claim exists in the toad, No protuber-
 
 JETTATURA. 17 
 
 ance rounded his shoulders or bulged out his 
 chest ; and yet he gave one the impression 
 that he was a hunchback, although it would 
 have been a hard matter to find the hump. 
 In a word, he was a model groom, and he 
 might have presented himself at the Ascot 
 races and at the spring meeting at Chantilly 
 without fear of being too closely scrutinized ; 
 any gentleman rider would have accepted his 
 services, notwithstanding his repulsive ap- 
 pearance. He was unattractive, but irre- 
 proachable in his way, like his master. 
 
 At last the steamer ran up alongside the 
 pier and the passengers went ashore ; the 
 porters, after an exchange of gross insults, 
 divided the passengers and the luggage be- 
 tween them, and took the road to the dif- 
 ferent hotels with which Naples is plentifully 
 supplied. 
 
 The traveller with the auburn hair and his 
 groom started for the Hotel de Rome, fol- 
 lowed by a phalanx of robust facchini who 
 pretended to perspire and totter beneath the 
 weight of a hat-box or a light parcel, in the 
 hope of receiving an extra large pourboire, 
 while four or five of their comrades brought 
 all of their muscles into play as they pushed 
 a wheelbarrow before them containing two 
 ordinary-sized trunks. 
 
 When they reached the hotel and the
 
 l8 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 padron di casa had designated his apartment 
 to the new arrival, the porters, notwithstand- 
 ing the fact that they had been paid thrice 
 the value for their services, began to gesticu- 
 late wildly and cry out in a half-supplicating, 
 half-threatening manner for a tip. They all 
 talked together and swore by all the saints 
 on the calendar that they had not been suffi- 
 ciently rewarded for their labor. Paddy, 
 who remained alone to listen to their recrimi- 
 nations for his master, unheeding the de- 
 mands and the entreaties of the facchini, had 
 already ascended the grand staircase looked 
 for all the world like a monkey surrounded 
 by a pack of dogs. He attempted to quiet 
 the porters by a bit of a harangue in his own 
 tongue, but, as the English language failed 
 to produce the desired effect, he clinched his 
 fists and, assuming the attitude of a boxer, 
 to the great amusement of the facchini, he 
 suddenly let fly his right in a manner worthy 
 of a Tom Cribbs or a Sawyer, and caught the 
 gigantic leader of the gang full in the pit of 
 the stomach, sending him to mother earth in 
 the most approved fashion. 
 
 This exploit routed the rest of the band ; 
 the colossus pulled himself together with an 
 effort and rose to his feet, considerably the 
 worse for wear, and skulked away, without 
 even vowing vengeance, rubbing his stomach
 
 JETTATURA. 19 
 
 and thoroughly satisfied that a veritable 
 demon was concealed in the person of that 
 little dog-faced groom whom he had thought 
 he could have knocked over with a whiff of 
 his breath. 
 
 The stranger, having sent for the landlord, 
 inquired whether a letter addressed to M. 
 Paul d'Aspremont had not been left at the 
 office for him. The proprietor replied that a 
 letter bearing this name had been awaiting 
 his arrival for over a week, and hastened to 
 bring it up. 
 
 The letter, enclosed in a heavy envelope, 
 cream-lead in color, sealed with a bit of 
 blue wax, was written in that peculiar and 
 elegant style of handwriting which denotes 
 the possessor of an excellent education, and 
 which is used to a great extent among the 
 young ladies of the English nobility. 
 
 The note, which M. d'Aspremont opened 
 with a haste not prompted by curiosity alone, 
 ran as follows : 
 
 " MY DEAR MONSIEUR D'ASPREMONT : 
 We have been stopping in Naples for the 
 past two months. During the voyage, which 
 was made in short stages, my uncle com- 
 plained bitterly of the heat, the mosquitoes, 
 the wine, the butter and the beds ; he de- 
 clared that one must be really crazy to aban- 
 don a comfortable cottage, within a few miles 
 of London, to travel over dusty roads on
 
 20 ROMANTIC LIBRAE Y. 
 
 which only second-class taverns are to be 
 found, taverns in which an honest English 
 dog would be ashamed to pass a single 
 night ; but, in spite of his grumbling, he ac- 
 companied me here just as he would have 
 followed me to the end of the world ; he is 
 none the worse for the trip and my health 
 has greatly improved. We have taken up 
 our quarters in a little whitewashed villa 
 near the sea, in a sort of a virgin forest com- 
 posed of citron and orange trees, myrtle, 
 laurel and rose bushes and other exotic 
 plants. From the summit of the bluff we 
 have a delightful view of the surrounding 
 country, and you will find a cup of tea or an 
 iced lemonade awaiting you any evening you 
 may call. My uncle, whom you have fasci- 
 nated, I know not how, will be delighted to 
 press your hand. Is it necessary for me to 
 add that your devoted servant would not be 
 sorry to do likewise, although you hurt her 
 fingers with your ring when you bid her 
 adieu on the jetty at Folkestone. 
 
 "ALICIA W." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PAUL D'ASPREMONT, after dining in his 
 room, ordered a carriage. As there are al- 
 ways a number stationed near the hotels 
 awaiting the call of tourists, Paul's wish was 
 instantly gratified. The hack horses of 
 Naples are so thin, that, if they were placed 
 alongside the famous Parisian rosse the latter
 
 JETTATURA. 21 
 
 would be accused of embonpoint; their ema- 
 ciated heads, their ribs looking for all the 
 world like so many barrel staves, their pro- 
 jecting backbones which are always flayed 
 and bleeding, seem to implore the butcher to 
 use his knife to put an end to their torture, 
 for it is regarded as a crime by the Southern 
 Jehu to feed his horses ; the harness is con- 
 siderably the worse for wear and is frequently 
 pieced together with bits of rope, and when 
 the driver gathers up his reins and cracks his 
 whip one would really suppose that the horses 
 would faint and the carriage disappear in 
 smoke, like Cinderella's turnout when she re- 
 turned from the ball after midnight, against 
 the command of the good fairy. But such is 
 not the case ; the nags brace up on their 
 legs, and, after a moment's hesitation, take up 
 a gallop which they never relinquish : the 
 coachman somehow or other imbues them 
 with fresh energy, and he knows how to draw 
 out by a vigorous application of his whip the 
 last spark of life contained in their old car- 
 casses. We will not attempt to explain how 
 it is that these maimed brutes can equal in 
 speed the fastest English trotters, for the feat 
 is beyond our comprehension. But this 
 miracle is of daily occurrence in Naples, and 
 no one seems surprised by the fact. 
 
 M. Paul d'Aspremont's carriage dashed
 
 2 2 ROMA NTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 through the compact crowd, grazing the 
 acquaiuloi, citron venders' stands, the open- 
 air macaroni shops, and the bazaars in which 
 citruls and other sea-fruits are for sale. The 
 lazzaroni, enveloped in their long, hooded 
 cloaks, dozed on the sidewalk heedless of the 
 passing vehicles. From time to time a carri- 
 colo, with its huge red wheels, would dash 
 by, the box-seats occupied by a mass of 
 monks, nurses, facchini and other rascals. 
 The carricoli are almost obsolete at present, 
 and it is against the law to build new ones, 
 but one can put a new box on the old wheels 
 or new wheels on an old box, and in this in- 
 genious manner manage to keep these curious 
 vehicles before the public. 
 
 Our traveller paid but little attention to this 
 picturesque and ever-changing panorama, 
 which certainly would have gladdened the 
 heart of any other tourist, unless he, too, was 
 so fortunate as to find a letter signed " Alicia 
 W.," awaiting his arrival at the Hotel de Rome. 
 
 But M. d'Aspremont had no eye for all this. 
 He glanced carelessly at the limpid sea with 
 its myriads of islands even Capri, Ischia, 
 Nisida and Procida failed to arouse his 
 enthusiasm. His eyes were seeking that lit- 
 tle white house, surrounded with shrubbery, 
 in the environs of Sorrento, of which Alicia 
 spoke in her letter. At this moment, M.
 
 JRTTATURA. 23 
 
 d'Aspremont's countenance had nothing of 
 that disagreeable expression which character- 
 ized it when he was displeased ; it was really 
 handsome and sympathetic. It was easy to 
 understand that this person of distinction 
 could not fail to please a young English miss, 
 brought up by an indulgent old uncle. 
 
 As the driver urged his horses to do their 
 utmost, it did not take long to pass Chiaja 
 and Marinella, and the carriage soon entered 
 the road which is now monopolized by the 
 steam-cars. A thick, black dust, not unlike 
 ground charcoal, gave an almost plutonic 
 aspect to this part of the beach, which is 
 washed by the blue waters of the gulf ; it is 
 the soot of Vesuvius, sifted by the wind, which 
 gives this dusky appearance to the sand and 
 causes the houses of Portici and Torre del 
 Greco to resemble the factories of Birming- 
 ham. M. d'Aspremont heeded not the con- 
 trast between the ebony-hued beach and the 
 sapphire-colored sky he was in a hurry to 
 arrive at his destination. The most beautiful 
 roads are tediously long when Miss Alicia is 
 awaiting your coming, six months after saying 
 good-bye on the jetty at Folkstone : the sky 
 and the sea of Naples have lost their charm 
 what are sky and sea to a man of the world, 
 especially when the woman he loves awaits 
 him at the end of the road.
 
 24 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 Finally, the carriage enters the private 
 road which leads to the little white house on 
 the hill. A sunburnt servant, with closely 
 matted hair, hurried to open the gate at the 
 approach of the carriage, and, preceding M. 
 d'Aspremont in a path bordered on either 
 side with laurel-rose bushes, conducted him 
 to the terrace where Miss Alicia Ward and 
 her uncle were sipping their afternoon tea. 
 
 Through mere caprice, a fault pardonable 
 in a young girl who is blaste of all the com- 
 forts and attractions of city life and possi- 
 bly also to tease her uncle Miss Alicia had 
 selected this villa in preference to any of the 
 more modern dwellings offered for rent. Its 
 owners were travelling and it had been un- 
 occupied for several years. She found a sort 
 of poetic wildness in this deserted garden, 
 which had almost reverted to its original 
 state, and which, owing to the warm climate, 
 was entirely overrun with orange trees, myr- 
 tle, geraniums, and citrons. It was not like in 
 the North, where a deserted house is the most 
 dreary object imaginable, but the wild gaiety 
 of the South left to herself ; in the absence 
 of the master, the exuberant vegetation was 
 having a veritable debauch of leaves, flowers, 
 fruits and perfume. 
 
 When the Commodore it was thus that 
 Alicia called her uncle first saw this im-
 
 JETTATURA. 5 
 
 penetrable thicket through which it was im- 
 possible to effect a passage without a lib- 
 eral application of the axe, as in the virgin 
 forests of Central America, he raised his 
 hands to Heaven in horror and declared that 
 his niece had lost her senses. But Alicia 
 promised to have an entrance made from the 
 gate of the salon, and another passage, large 
 enough to permit of the entrance of a barrel 
 of malmsey wine, from the salon to the 
 terrace but this was the only concession 
 she would accord to her uncle. The Commo- 
 dore, unable to resist the persuasions of his 
 lovely niece, resigned himself to his fate, and 
 at this moment he was seated opposite her on 
 the terrace, contentedly sipping a big tumbler 
 of rum, which the servants, in their innocence, 
 mistook for English breakfast tea. 
 
 As M. d'Aspremont made his appearance 
 on the terrace, Alicia sprang to her feet with 
 a little cry of joyful surprise and ran up to 
 meet him. Paul shook her warmly by the 
 hand, but the young girl suddenly raised the 
 imprisoned hand to the height of her friend's 
 lips with a little movement which was full of 
 playful coquetry. 
 
 After a desperate effort, the Commodore 
 finally managed to raise himself on his gouty 
 legs, but it was amusing to behold the 
 expression of joy mingled with pain which
 
 2 6 ROMA N TIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 spread o'er his countenance as he attempted 
 to walk. However, the old sailor was not to 
 be daunted. 
 
 Gritting his teeth, he stepped boldly for- 
 ward, and approaching the young people, 
 stretched forth his hand to Paul as he gave 
 him a hearty welcome. 
 
 Miss Alicia Ward was one of those charm- 
 ing women in whom the commingling of the 
 dark and blonde types produces an ideal 
 beauty ; her full lips were red as cherries, 
 while her shining hair was dark as a raven's 
 wing, in direct contrast with her complex- 
 ion, which challenged comparison with that 
 " whiteness of the lily, and clearness of 
 alabaster" in which a poet delights when 
 singing the praises of the mistress of his 
 heart. The effect of this is irresistible, and 
 produces a peculiar style of beauty not to be 
 found elsewhere. 
 
 Perhaps the harems of the East contain 
 fair Circassians of a like complexion, if we 
 can believe the flowery extravagance of East- 
 ern poets, or the aquarelles of Lewis, repre- 
 senting scenes in the seraglio. 
 
 Alicia was certainly a perfect type of this 
 class of beauty. Her oval face, pure com- 
 plexion, delicate nose and transparent nostrils, 
 her deep blue eyes fringed with long, dark 
 lashes which hovered on her cheeks like
 
 JETTATURA. 27 
 
 black butterflies when she lowered her eyes ; 
 her hair falling in brilliant masses like satin 
 ribbons down her swan-like neck, and cling- 
 ing about her face, proved the possibility of 
 Maclise's romantic figures which are usually 
 held to be but dreams. 
 
 She wore a dress of grenadine, embroidered 
 with red palm-leaves, which accorded well 
 with the strings of coral ^vrhich were woven in 
 her hair and encircled her throat and arms ; 
 from her delicate shell-like ears hung pen- 
 dants formed of numerous small pieces of 
 coral deftly strung together. If the reader 
 blame this abuse of coral, remember that we 
 are in Naples, where the fishermen go down 
 to the bottom of the sea only to find these 
 wonderful branches which blush like a maiden 
 when exposed to the sunlight. 
 
 After the portrait of Miss Alicia Ward, we 
 feel obliged to give, by way of contrast, a 
 caricature, a la Hogarth, of her uncle, the 
 Commodore. He was about sixty years old, 
 and his face was a dark purple, contrasting 
 strongly with his white eyebrows and mutton- 
 chop whiskers, which were sharply defined, 
 and gave him the appearance of an old In- 
 dian who had decorated his face with white 
 paint. The warm Italian sun had still fur- 
 ther deepened this violet color, and the 
 Commodore made one think involuntarily
 
 28 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 of a large burnt almond packed in cotton. 
 He was dressed from top to toe in a suit of 
 grayish-brown tweed, with gaiters to match, 
 which his tailor had assured him, on his word 
 of honor, was the latest and most fashionable 
 color, which probably was true. Notwith- 
 standing his inflamed complexion and gro- 
 tesque costume, the Commodore looked 
 above the common herd. His scrupulous 
 neatness, noble bearing and courtly manners 
 bespoke the perfect gentleman, although he 
 certainly looked like one of the caricatures in 
 Hoffman's or Levassar's comedies. His only 
 occupation was to adore his niece and to 
 drink an enormous quantity of Jamaica rum, 
 to preserve the radical humidity, after the 
 style of Corporal Trim. 
 
 " See how well I am looking and how 
 pretty I am ! Look at my rosy color I am 
 not as red as uncle, it is true, but then I never 
 touch Jamaica rum or old London Dock 
 and yet my cheeks are red, most decidedly 
 red," exclaimed Alicia, as she tapped her face 
 with her tapering, well-shaped finger : " I 
 have grown stout, too, and there are no 
 longer any of those horrid circles under my 
 eyes like there used to be when I wanted to 
 look my prettiest at a ball. I say, Paul, I 
 must be indeed a great coquette to deprive 
 myself of the company of my fianct during
 
 JETTATURA. 29 
 
 three long months, so that he will find me 
 looking all the fresher and prettier after the 
 separation ! 
 
 And, as she gave vent to this little outburst 
 of feeling, Alicia stood up on her tip-toes as 
 if to provoke Paul and defy his examination. 
 
 " Isn't she as strong and hearty as those 
 Procida girls who carry Grecian amphoras on 
 their heads ? " interrupted the Commodore. 
 
 " Pardon me, Commodore," answered 
 Paul ; " Miss Alicia has not grown prettier, 
 that would be impossible ; but she is in de- 
 cidedly better health than when she imposed 
 this cruel separation upon me out of mere 
 caprice or coquetry, as she pretends." 
 
 And he turned his eyes full upon the young 
 girl who stood before him. 
 
 Suddenly, the rosy hue, of which but a mo- 
 ment before she seemed so proud, disap- 
 peared from Alicia's cheeks, and she carried 
 her hand to her heart with a movement of pain. 
 
 Paul, thoroughly alarmed, rose to his feet; 
 the Commodore did likewise. The bright 
 color suddenly reappeared in Alicia's cheeks 
 as she smilingly remarked : 
 
 " I promised you a cup of tea or a sorbet, 
 and, although English, I recommend the sor- 
 bet. The snow is preferable to hot water in 
 this clime, where the African sirocco visits 
 us almost daily."
 
 3 ROM A N 7 '1C LIBRA R Y. 
 
 They seated themselves around the little 
 stone table ; the sun had sunk beneath the 
 hojrizon, and the soft twilight of the Neapoli 
 tan night succeeded the glaring light of day. 
 The rising moon gave a silvery tint to the 
 surrounding foliage ; the sea broke upon the 
 pebbly beach with a gentle murmur, and in 
 the distance the beating of drums could be 
 plainly heard as the guards were relieved 
 for the night. 
 
 At last they were obliged to part ; Nice, 
 the fawn-colored servant with the matted 
 hair, conducted Paul to the gate, lighting the 
 way with a torch. While she was serving 
 the tea and the sorbets she had fastened a 
 look of curiosity, mingled with fear, on the 
 new arrival. No doubt the result of her ex- 
 amination was unfavorable to Paul, for Nice's 
 brow, yellow as a cigar already, gathered it- 
 self up into innumerable wrinkles, and, as she 
 accompanied the stranger, she secretly pointed 
 her little finger at him, and crossed her three 
 other fingers over her thifrnb, as if to form 
 some cabalistic sign. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PAUL returned to the Hotel de Rome by 
 the same road ; the beauty of the night was
 
 JETTATURA. 31 
 
 incomparable ; the moon reflected her silver 
 rays on the waves, which, as they broke gently 
 upon the beach, seemed to burst into myriads 
 of glittering sparks. The fishing-smacks, 
 carrying a lighted torch in the prow, skimmed 
 over the surface of the sea, leaving a silvery 
 trail in their wake ; the smoke of Vesuvius, 
 white in the daylight, was now a glistening 
 column of fire which reflected strangely on 
 the waters of the gulf. 
 
 A few strolling lazzaroni were reclining on 
 the sands, deeply moved without knowing it 
 at this magical spectacle, as they gazed long 
 and earnestly into the limpid waters of the 
 bay. Others, seated on the deck of a bark 
 at anchor, were either singing an air from 
 Lucia or the romanza so popular at the time : 
 " Ti voglio ben' assat," in a voice of which 
 many a tenor might well be envious. Naples, 
 like all other Southern cities, retires late ; 
 however, the lights in the windows gradually 
 disappeared, one by one, but the lottery offices, 
 with their garlands of paper flowers and their 
 favorite numbers gaily illuminated, were still 
 open in the hope that the few passers-by 
 would come in and put a few carlins or a 
 couple of ducats on some pet number on 
 their way home. 
 
 Paul went right to bed, and, drawing the 
 mosquito netting tightly about him, was soon
 
 32 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 fast asleep. Like most travellers after a sea 
 voyage, his couch, although perfectly station- 
 ary, appeared to roll and plunge as if the 
 Hotel de Rome had been the Leopold, Under 
 this impression he dreamed that he was still 
 at sea, and he saw Alicia standing on the 
 jetty, pale as death, alongside of her red- 
 faced uncle, who was making desperate signs 
 for him not to come ashore ; the young girl's 
 face expressed profound grief, and in mo- 
 tioning him away she seemed to obey a 
 mysterious impulse in spite of herself. 
 
 Paul now awoke with a start ; this dream 
 strangely affected him, and he was ashamed 
 to find that he was in the hotel instead of at 
 sea, with the veilleuse burning brightly along- 
 side the bed and attracting all the mosqui- 
 toes in the room. In order not to fall back 
 into this painful slumber, Paul struggled 
 against the feeling of drowsiness which al- 
 most overpowered him, and began to recall 
 his courtship of Alicia. 
 
 In his fancy he once more beheld the red- 
 brick house, covered with vines of honey- 
 suckle and lilac, which Alicia and her uncle 
 inhabited in Richmond, when he met them 
 on the occasion of his first trip to England, 
 having presented one of those letters of in- 
 troduction which invariably result in an invi- 
 tation to dinner. He remembered the while
 
 JETTATURA. 33 
 
 India muslin dress, ornamented with a simple 
 ribbon which Alicia, just home from boarding- 
 school, wore that day, and the branch of 
 jasmine which entwined itself in her coal- 
 black hair like a flower in Ophelia's crown ; 
 her beautiful blue eyes and partly opened 
 lips, exposing a row of enamelled teeth. He 
 recalled to mind the deep blush which rose 
 to her cheeks when the young French gentle- 
 man's eyes met hers. 
 
 The parlor, draped in sombre green and 
 decorated with engravings of fox-hunts and 
 steeple-chases, was reproduced in his mind 
 as in a camera obscura. The piano stretched 
 forth its row of keys like the teeth in the 
 jaw of an alligator ; the mantelpiece, decor- 
 ated with a sprig of Irish shamrock, and its 
 highly polished grate; the old oak armchairs, 
 the carpet strewn with roses, and Miss Alicia, 
 trembling like a leaf, singing the romanza 
 from Anna Bolena, "de/i, non -voter costringere" 
 most delightfully out of tune, while Paul ac- 
 companied her on the piano, and the Commo- 
 dore, overcome with an attack of indigestion 
 and, if possible, more crimson than usual, 
 dropped the colossal supplement of the 
 London Times as he fell into a quiet doze. 
 
 Then the scene changed. Paul, now on 
 most intimate terms, hud been invited by the 
 Commodore to visit him at his country home
 
 34 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 in Lincolnshire an old, feudal castle, with 
 crenellated turrets and ivy-covered Gothic 
 windows, but furnished in the most approved 
 modern style. It rose at the end of a large, 
 well-kept lawn, surrounded by a gravel path 
 serving as a riding school for Miss Alicia, 
 who rode one of those little Shetland ponies 
 with flowing mane, which Sir Edwin Land- 
 seer loves to paint. Paul, mounted on a gray 
 hunter kindly loaned him by the Commodore, 
 accompanied Miss Ward on her daily rides, 
 as the doctor, finding her somewhat broken 
 down in health, had recommended plenty of 
 exercise. 
 
 Again, a little canoe was gliding along the 
 lake, displacing the water-lilies, and making 
 the kingfishers beat a hasty retreat. Alicia 
 rowed while Paul held the tiller ropes. How 
 beautiful she looked in her straw hat, the 
 golden halo of the noonday sun surrounding 
 her pretty head! 
 
 The Commodore remained on shore, not 
 on account of his dignity, but owing to his 
 weight, which would have caused the little 
 boat to founder ; he awaited the arrival of 
 his niece on the embankment, and threw 
 a wrap over her shoulders, with almost 
 motherly care, for fear she would take cold ; 
 then, after hauling the boat up high and dry, 
 they would return to the cottage for luncheon.
 
 JETTATURA. 35 
 
 Alicia, who at other times ate no more than 
 a bird, now thoroughly enjoyed a slice of 
 York ham, cut thin as a wafer, while she 
 munched away at her hot biscuits without ever 
 giving a crumb to the gold-fishes which dis- 
 ported themselves in a huge globe suspended 
 by a chain from the ceiling. 
 
 But those happy days could not last forever. 
 Paul postponed his departure by several weeks, 
 and already signs of fall were beginning to 
 make their appearance. 
 
 Alicia grew pale under the anxious eye of 
 her lover, and the only color she retained were 
 two bright spots near the temples. She was 
 subject to chills, and the biggest fire was not 
 sufficient to warm her. The doctor finally 
 decided, as a last resource, that Miss Ward 
 should pass the winter at Pisa and the spring 
 in Naples. 
 
 Important family affairs recalled Paul to 
 France ; Alicia and the Commodore were 
 ready to start for Italy, and the separation 
 took place at Folkestone. Not a word on 
 the subject had been spoken, but Miss Ward 
 looked upon Paul as her betrothed, and the 
 Commodore had pressed the young man's 
 hands significantly ; one only squeezes the 
 hand of a son-in-law in so forcible a manner. 
 
 After an absence of six months, Paul was 
 overjoyed to find Alicia looking strong and
 
 36 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 healthy. The young girl was now a young 
 woman, and he reasoned that the Commodore 
 could not offer any objection when he asked 
 for the hand of his niece in marriage. 
 
 Rocked to sleep with these pleasant 
 thoughts he dropped off into a gentle slum- 
 ber, from which he was aroused only at day- 
 break. Naples had already begun her noisy 
 clatter : the venders of iced-water were crying 
 out their wares for sale ; the cooks offered 
 the passers-by tempting morsels of roast 
 beef for a mere song, while the lazy house- 
 wives were lowering down their baskets by the 
 aid of a string, which they hauled up a mo- 
 ment later filled with tomatoes, fish, and large 
 pieces of pumpkin. The notaries, dressed 
 in seedy black, seated themselves at their 
 stands as they placed their pen behind their 
 ears ; the money changers displayed little 
 piles of gold and silver on their tables ; while 
 the coachmen galloped their living bone-yards, 
 soliciting an early patronage as the bells in all 
 the steeples merrily chimed out the Angelus. 
 
 Our traveller, enveloped in his dressing- 
 gown, leaned out of the window ; from there 
 he could plainly see Santa-Lucia and the 
 fortress of CEuf, while an immense stretch of 
 sea, reaching from Vesuvius to the huge 
 promontory of Castellamare and the villas of 
 Sorrento, unrolled itself before his eyes.
 
 JETTATURA. 37 
 
 The sky was clear, but a white cloud was 
 rapidly approaching the city, impelled by a 
 gentle breeze. As Paul fixed his eyes upon 
 this cloud, that peculiar expression came over 
 his face, and his eyebrows contracted as the 
 frown grew more pronounced. Other vapors 
 joined this single cloud, and soon a heavy 
 curtain hung over the Chateau of Saint Elmo. 
 Large drops began to fall on the lava pave- 
 ment, and soon one of those terrific rain 
 storms for which Naples is noted burst upon 
 the city, carrying dogs and even donkeys 
 into the sewers before it. The crowd, taken 
 by surprise, dispersed, seeking shelter where- 
 ever they could find it ; the open-air stores 
 shut up shop in no time, and the rain, now 
 mistress of the situation, swept across the 
 quay of Santa Lucia from end to end. 
 
 The gigantic facchino to whom Paddy had 
 applied such a vigorous thrashing was lean- 
 ing against the column of a building, directly 
 opposite the window at which Paul d'Aspre- 
 mont was standing. 
 
 As he caught sight of the face at the window 
 the Neapolitan muttered in an irritated tone : 
 
 " The captain of the Leopold would have 
 done well to throw that unbeliever overboard," 
 and, passing his hand under his coarse linen 
 blouse, he touched a bunch of amulets which 
 was suspended around his neck.
 
 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE sun soon shone forth brightly, and 
 it was not long before the streets were dry 
 and filled with people. But Timberio, the 
 porter, nevertheless retained the opinion he 
 had formed regarding the young Frenchman, 
 and he prudently withdrew out of range of 
 the window : some of the other lazzaroni 
 evinced their surprise that he should abandon 
 such an excellent station. 
 
 " Whoever wants the place is welcome to 
 it," he replied, as he shook his head in a mys- 
 terious manner. " I know what I am talking 
 about." 
 
 Paul breakfasted in his room ; whether he 
 was bashful, or whether it was because he dis- 
 liked to be among strangers, he never took 
 his meals in public. Then he dressed himself 
 and, in awaiting the hour for his call on Miss 
 Ward, he visited the Museum of Studj : in an 
 absent-minded way he admired the precious 
 collection of antique vases, bronzes unearthed 
 among the ruins of Pompeii, the helmet of 
 Grecian brass, all covered with verdigris, 
 in which reposed the head of the soldier who 
 wore it ages ago, the bit of hardened earth 
 retaining, as in a cast, the impression of the 
 figure of a young woman surprised by the
 
 JETTATURA. 39 
 
 eruption in the summer residence of Arrius 
 Diomedes, and the beautiful statue of Aris- 
 tides, the choicest and possibly the most per- 
 fect morsel left us of a forgotten era. But a 
 lover is not an enthusiastic admirer of art ; 
 in his eyes the profile of the adored one is 
 worth more than all the Greek and Roman 
 statues in the world. 
 
 After whiling away two or three hours at 
 the Studj, he entered a carriage and directed 
 the driver to proceed at once to the little 
 villa near Sorrento where Miss Ward resided. 
 The driver, with the intelligence which char- 
 acterizes all Southern people, divined that the 
 gentleman was in a hurry, so whipping up his 
 tired horses he soon drove up to the villa. 
 The same servant opened the gate. She was 
 dressed as before, with the exception that her 
 legs were entirely devoid of covering and that 
 a little bunch of horns and coral charms was 
 suspended around her neck. 
 
 Miss Alicia was reclining in an Indian ham- 
 mock on the terrace, dressed in a light china- 
 silk wrapper. Her feet, which were plainly 
 visible^through the netting of the hammock, 
 were encased in a pair of loose sandals, and 
 her bare arms were crossed above her head, 
 in Cleopatra's favorite attitude. 
 
 The Commodore, dressed in a suit of white 
 duck, was seated in a bamboo chair, and from
 
 4 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 time to time he pulled the rope which set the 
 hammock in motion. 
 
 A third personage completed the group: it 
 was the Comte d'Altavilla, a young and ele- 
 gant Neapolitan, whose presence brought to 
 Paul's face that peculiar contraction of the 
 features which gave it such a diabolical ex- 
 pression. 
 
 In fact, the Comte was one of those men 
 one does not care to see beside his lady- 
 love. He was unusually tall, although splen- 
 didly proportioned ; his hair was as black as 
 jet, and was arranged in graceful curls around 
 the temples; a spark of Southern fire scintil- 
 lated in his eyes ; and his large, white teeth 
 appeared still whiter owing to his red lips 
 and the dark olive color of his complexion. 
 The only fault a critic could possibly have 
 brought to bear against the Comte was that 
 he was too handsome. 
 
 As to his clothes, d'Altavilla had them all im- 
 ported from London, and the most pronounced 
 dandy would have approved of his attire. 
 There was nothing at all Italian in his dress 
 with the exception of his shirt-studs, which 
 were of great value. Here the love of all sons 
 of the South for jewelry betrayed itself. He 
 also wore a little bunch of coral charms on his 
 watch-chain, but a tour of inspection among 
 the promenaders in the Rue de Tolede or at
 
 JETTATURA. 4* 
 
 the Villa Reale would have sufficed to con- 
 vince the most incredulous that there was 
 nothing at all eccentric about him. 
 
 As Paul d'Aspremont entered, the Comte, 
 at Miss Ward's urgent request, was singing 
 some delightful Neapolitan melodies. Those 
 who have not heard one of these charming 
 romanzas of Gordigiani's, as sung by a laz- 
 zarone at Chiaja, or a sailor on the jetty, as 
 he returns from his work, have missed the 
 breath of a lifetime. They are composed of a 
 breath of air, of a ray of moonshine, of the 
 perfume of an orange-grove, and of the throb- 
 bing of a heart. 
 
 Alicia, with her pretty English voice, a 
 trifle out of tune, hummed the air which she 
 wished to remember, as she nodded a wel- 
 come to Paul, who was looking at her in any- 
 thing but a pleasant manner, being annoyed 
 at the presence of this handsome young man. 
 
 One of the ropes of the hammock suddenly 
 parted, and Miss Ward slipped to the ground, 
 without injuring herself, however. Six ready 
 hands were simultaneously extended toward 
 her, but the young girl was already on her 
 feet, blushing furiously, for it is considered 
 improper for a woman to fall in the presence 
 of men. 
 
 " I can't understand it ; I tried every one 
 of those ropes myself," exclaimed the Com-
 
 42 ROMA NTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 modore, " and Miss Ward doesn't weigh any 
 more than a humming bird." 
 
 The Comte d'Altavilla shook his head in a 
 mysterious manner : in the breaking of the 
 rope he evidently saw another reason besides 
 weight ; but, man of the world as he was, he 
 kept his opinion to himself, while he care- 
 lessly toyed with the charms on his watch 
 chain. 
 
 Like all men who become surly and dis- 
 agreeable in the presence of a rival whom 
 they consider worthy of their steel, instead of 
 assuming to be all grace and amiability, Paul 
 d'Aspremont, although well versed in the cus- 
 toms of polite society, did not succeed in 
 concealing his ill-humor ; he only replied by 
 monosyllables, permitting the conversation to 
 drag, and whenever he glanced towards d'Al- 
 tavilla his eyes assumed their peculiar expres- 
 sion ; the yellow fibres shot forth beneath 
 the gray transparency of his eyeballs like so 
 many water-snakes in the bottom of a well. 
 
 Every time that Paul looked at him thus, 
 the Comte, seemingly by a mechanical move- 
 ment, plucked a flower from the jardiniere 
 and flung it from him so as to ward off the 
 magnetism of the former's angry glance. 
 
 "What ails you that you should vent your 
 spite on my jardiniere ? " exclaimed Miss 
 Ward, as she suddenly noticed the number of
 
 JETTATURA. 43 
 
 plants the Comte had destroyed. "What 
 have my flowers done to you that you should 
 wage war upon them ? " 
 
 " Oh ! it is nothing, Miss Alicia ; merely a 
 nervous tic," replied d'Altavilla, as he decapi- 
 tated a superb rose with his finger-nail and 
 sent it to join the other flowers on the terrace. 
 
 " Well, then, you annoy me very much," 
 said Alicia ; " and without knowing it, you 
 have upset one of my pet theories. I have 
 never plucked a flower in all my life. Bou- 
 quets inspire me with a feeling of horror : to 
 me they are dead flowers, mere cadavers of 
 roses, full of worms and periwinkles, and the 
 odor of which has something positively sepul- 
 chral." 
 
 " To atone for the murder I have just com- 
 mitted," said the Comte d'Altavilla, bowing 
 politely, " I will send you a hundred baskets 
 of flowers in full bloom." 
 
 Paul had risen ; he toyed with his hat as if 
 he contemplated taking his departure. 
 
 " What ! going already ? " exclaimed Miss 
 Ward. 
 
 " 1 have some letters to write some very 
 important letters." 
 
 " Oh ! what a story ! " remarked the young 
 girl with a pretty pout ; " how can you have 
 important letters to write when I am here to 
 listen to what you have to say in person ? "
 
 44 ROMA N TIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 "Why don't you stay, Paul?" put in the 
 Commodore ; " I had arranged a little pro- 
 gramme for this evening, and I only await the 
 sanction of my niece to put it into execution : 
 in the first place we would go to the fountain 
 of Santa-Lucia, where we would have partaken 
 of a glass of water which smells of rotten 
 eggs, but which is a great appetizer, never- 
 theless ; then we would have eaten a dozen or 
 two of white and pink oysters, at the fish- 
 market, dined under a vine arbor in some 
 Neapolitan tavern, drunk chianti and lac- 
 ryma-christi, and wound up the evening with 
 a visit to Seigneur Pulcinella. The Comte 
 would have explained all the jokes and the 
 native dialect." 
 
 This proposition evidently did not please 
 M. d'Aspremont, and he retired after bowing 
 coldly. 
 
 D'Altavilla remained a few moments Iqnger: 
 and as Miss Ward, vexed at Paul's sudden 
 departure, did not enter into the spirit of the 
 excursion proposed by the Commodore, he 
 also took his leave. 
 
 Two hours later Miss Alicia received a 
 large number of rare plants, but what sur- 
 prised her most was an enormous pair of 
 Sicilian bull's horns, transparent as amber, 
 and polished like agate, measuring at least 
 three feet, and tipped at the ends with threat-
 
 JETTATURA. 45 
 
 ening black points. A magnificent gilt bronze 
 shield accompanied the horns, evidently de- 
 signed to support them. 
 
 Vice, who had assisted the porters to un- 
 pack the flowers and the horns, seemed to 
 understand the motive which prompted the 
 Comte to make such a strange gift. 
 
 She placed them on the stone table and, as 
 they rested there, one might well have sup- 
 posed that they had been torn from the front 
 of the divine bull which carried Europa on 
 his mighty head. Then, after a long and 
 silent contemplation, she remarked : 
 
 " We are now prepared to defend our- 
 selves at least." 
 
 " What do you mean, Vice ? " questioned 
 Miss Ward. 
 
 " Nothing but the French signer has very 
 strange eyes ! " 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE hour for dinner had long since passed, 
 and the fires of hot coals, which, during the 
 day, make a miniature Vesuvius in the kitchen 
 of the Hotel de Rome, were slowly dying out; 
 the pots and the pans had resumed their 
 places on their respective nails, and shone in 
 the semi-darkness like so many ancient breast-
 
 4<> ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 plates ; a copper lamp, not unlike those un- 
 earthed at Pompeii, was suspended from the 
 main rafter of the room by a triple chain, its 
 three wicks lighting up the centre of the 
 kitchen, the remainder being plunged in total 
 darkness. 
 
 Its dull rays illuminated the countenances 
 of an ill-assorted group a group which would 
 have furnished plenty of material for the 
 brushes of an Espagnolet or a Salvator Rosa 
 as it sat there in the semi-darkness around 
 the chopped-up table. In the first place there 
 was the chef, Virgilio Falsacappa, a very im- 
 portant personage in his own estimation. 
 He was of gigantic stature and formidable 
 embonpoint j in fact, he might have passed for 
 one of the guests at Vitellius' banquet, if he 
 had been attired in a Roman toga instead of 
 a white apron. His features were strongly 
 marked and resembled the profile of those 
 curious heads stamped on ancient coins ; 
 coarse, black eyebrows, half an inch thick, sur- 
 mounted a pair of almond-shaped eyes ; an 
 enormous nose cast its shadow o'er a tre- 
 mendous mouth, resembling the jaw of a 
 shark with its double row of large teeth. 
 Bunchy side-whiskers encircled his dark vis- 
 age, while his glossy, black hair, tinged with 
 a few silver threads, fell in short ringlets on 
 his colossal and bloated neck. His jaw
 
 JETTATURA. 47 
 
 seemed capable of crunching the bones of an 
 ox, and the silver crescents he wore in his 
 ears were as large as a new moon. This is 
 master Virgilio Falsacappa, who, with his 
 apron tucked under his belt and his knife 
 plunged in a wooden sheath, resembled an 
 old-time victimarius far more than a modern 
 chef. 
 
 Then there was Timberio, the porter, who 
 was in a state of extreme emaciation, thanks 
 to his gymnastic calling and to the frugal 
 diet of a handful of half-cooked macaroni, 
 seasoned with cacio-cavallo, a slice of water- 
 melon and a glass of snow water, which were 
 the only victuals his meagre purse would al- 
 low. Had he received proper nourishment 
 there is no doubt he would have equalled in 
 size, if not in embonpoint, Virgilio Falsacappa. 
 The only garments he wore were a pair of 
 linen drawers, a long calico waistcoat, and a 
 coarse cloak which was thrown across his 
 shoulders in a careless manner. 
 
 Scazziga, the proud owner of the carriage 
 M. Paul d'Aspremont had hired to go to 
 Sorrento, was leaning against the table ; he, 
 too, presented a striking appearance : his ir- 
 regular features wore a cunning expression, 
 and a sarcastic smile was constantly playing 
 about his lips. It was easy to see that he 
 had been thrown in contact with people of
 
 48 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 more or less distinction, for his every move- 
 ment was an imitation of the gestures and 
 mannerisms he had noted among his supe- 
 riors. His clothing, purchased in some 
 second-hand store, consisted of a semi-livery, 
 semi-civilian attire, of which he was very 
 proud, and which, in his opinion, was not to 
 be compared with Timberio's cheap get-up ; 
 his conversation was replete with English 
 and French words which at times failed to 
 express the meaning of what he wished to 
 convey, but which raised him high in the es- 
 timation of the kitchen maids and the pot- 
 boys, who were surprised at such a wonderful 
 display of knowledge. 
 
 Two young servants, whose features re- 
 called that type of beauty so common on Syr- 
 acusan moneys, were standing a little in the 
 rear low forehead, commingling with the 
 brow, rather thick lips, strong and well-defined 
 chin ; the braids of bluish-black hair being 
 fastened into a heavy coil, pierced with coral- 
 mounted pins, while three rows of coral beads 
 encircled their muscular necks. A dandy 
 would have scorned to notice these poor girls 
 whose red Grecian blood was free of all for- 
 eign taint, but an artist would have pulled 
 out his sketch-book and sharpened his pencil 
 with alacrity. 
 
 Have you ever seen that picture by Muril-
 
 JETTATURA. 49 
 
 lo in Marechal Soult's gallery, representing 
 a group of little cupids as they disport them- 
 selves about the kitchen fire ? For if you 
 have, it will spare us the trouble of painting 
 the heads of the three or four curly-headed 
 pot-boys who completed the group. 
 
 This trio, surrounded by the pot-boys and 
 the scullion maids, were discussing a serious 
 question. They were talking of M. Paul 
 d' Aspremont, the young French traveller, who 
 had arrived by the last steamer. Those in 
 the kitchen considered it their duty to criticise 
 their betters. 
 
 Timberio had the floor, and he rested be- 
 tween every sentence to note the effect pro- 
 duced on his audience. 
 
 " Now I want you to carefully note what I 
 have to say," began the orator ; " the Leopold 
 is an honest craft, flying the flag of Tuscany. 
 The only fault to be found against her is that 
 she transports too many English heretics " 
 
 " The English heretics pay well, however," 
 interrupted Scazziga, who had received many 
 a tip from the British tourists. 
 
 " Undoubtedly ; but then the best thing a 
 heretic can do is to pay a Christian liberally 
 to compensate him for the disgrace of serv- 
 ing an unbeliever." 
 
 " I don't consider it a disgrace at all to 
 drive a heretic in my carriage ; I don't make
 
 50 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 a pack-horse of myself like you, Timberio, any 
 way." 
 
 "Was I not baptized just the same as 
 you?" retorted the porter, 'with an angry 
 scowl as he doubled up his fists. 
 
 " Let Timberio have his say ! " cried out 
 the others as in one voice, fearing that these 
 personal recriminations would wind up in a 
 scuffle. 
 
 "You will agree," continued the orator, 
 thoroughly pacified as he knew popular fa- 
 vor was on his side, " that the weather was 
 superb when the Leopold entered port ? " 
 
 " We admit all that, Timberio," remarked 
 the chef, as he waved his hand majestically in 
 token of acquiescence. 
 
 " The sea was as smooth as glass," con- 
 tinued the facchino, "and yet an enormous 
 wave suddenly came up and upset Gennaro's 
 bark, spilling the captain and three of his 
 men into the water. Now, I ask you, is this 
 natural ? Gennaro is a regular sea-dog ; he 
 could dance the tarentella on the crest of a 
 wave without a balancing pole, and yet his 
 bark is upset in a dead calm." 
 
 " He may have drunk a flask of asprimo 
 too much," objected Scazziga, the rationalist 
 of the assembly. 
 
 " Not even a glass of lemonade," Tim- 
 berio hastened to reply ; " but a gentleman
 
 JETTATURA. 51 
 
 on board the steamer looked at him in a 
 peculiar manner do you hear ? " 
 
 " Oh, perfectly ! " replied the chorus, ex- 
 tending their middle and little fingers as if 
 moved by a string. 
 
 " And this gentlemen," added Timberio, 
 " was no other but M. Paul d'Aspremont." 
 
 "The guest who occupies number 3?" 
 inquired the chef ; " the one who takes his 
 meals in his room ? " 
 
 " Precisely," replied the youngest and the 
 prettiest of the servants ; " I have never seen 
 such a disagreeable or such a surly traveller 
 before ; he would not even give me a look, 
 or say a single word, and yet all the tourists 
 who stop here say I deserve a compliment 
 even if I do not deserve a tip." 
 
 " You deserve more than that, Gelsomina, 
 my love," gallantly remarked Timberio : "but 
 it is fortunate indeed that the stranger did 
 not notice you." 
 
 " How superstitious you are, to be sure," 
 objected Scazziga, whom constant association 
 with foreigners had made more or less 
 sceptical. 
 
 " If you keep on associating with heretics 
 you will wind up by no longer believing in 
 Saint Januarius himself." 
 
 " If Gennaro was so clumsy as to fall over- 
 board, that is no reason why M. Paul d'As-
 
 5 2 ROMANTIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 premont should possess the evil influence you 
 attribute to him," continued Scazziga, defend- 
 ing his customer. 
 
 " I will give you other proofs : this morn- 
 ing I saw him standing near the window, his 
 eye fixed on a little cloud no larger than Gel- 
 somina's cap, and a moment later a mass of 
 thick vapors gathered over the city and the 
 rain came down so hard that the dogs could 
 drink out of the gutter without stooping." 
 
 Scazziga was as doubtful as ever, and he 
 shook his head as if to say that he didn't 
 credit Timberio's idle fears in the least. 
 
 " Besides, the valet is not worth any more 
 than the master," continued the latter ; " and 
 I am sure the little hump-backed monkey 
 must be in league with the devil to be able 
 to overthrow me Timberio who could 
 knock him over with the flat of my hand ! " 
 
 " I share Timberio's opinions," chimed in 
 the chef in a patronizing sort of way ; " the 
 stranger eats but little ; he sent back some 
 fried chicken and some macaroni I had pre- 
 pared with my own hands ! Some mysterious 
 secret is hidden beneath this abstinence. 
 Why should a rich man deprive himself of 
 the good things of this world in order to par- 
 take of a bouillon and a slice of cold meat ? " 
 
 " He has red hair," said Gelsomina, as she 
 passed her hand through her long curls.
 
 JETTATURA. S3 
 
 " And projecting eyes," added Pepina, the 
 other servant. 
 
 " Very close to his nose," insisted Timberio. 
 
 " And the wrinkle which assumes the form 
 of a horse-shoe between his eye-glasses," re- 
 marked the formidable Virgilio Falsacappa ; 
 " therefore he is a " 
 
 " Do not pronounce the name, it is un- 
 necessary," they all exclaimed with the ex- 
 ception of Scazziga ; " we will be on our 
 guard." 
 
 " It makes my blood boil when I think that 
 the police would arrest me if, by accident, I 
 let a three-hundred-pound trunk fall on the 
 head of this unbeliever of this forerunner of 
 danger," raved Timberio, bringing his fist 
 down upon the table in his rage. 
 
 " Scazziga must be plucky to drive him," 
 now ventured Gelsomina. 
 
 " I am on my box, he can only see my back, 
 so his eyes can't fix themselves upon mine in 
 the right angle. Besides, I don't bother my 
 head about all this humbug ! " 
 
 " You have no faith, Scazziga," said Pal- 
 forio, the colossal pastry-cook ; " " you will 
 come to a bad end." 
 
 While he was thus being discussed in the 
 kitchen of the Hotel de Rome, Paul, whom 
 the presence of the Comte d'Altavilla at Miss 
 Ward's had put in a bad humor, had gone for
 
 54 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 a stroll in the Villa Reale; and the wrinkle 
 in his forehead grew larger and his eyes as- 
 sumed their queer expression more than once 
 as he walked up and down the lava pavement. 
 At one moment he thought he saw Alicia and 
 the Comte driving by in a carriage; he rushed 
 up to the vehicle and peered through the 
 open window, but it was not Alicia only a 
 woman who resembled her slightly at a dis- 
 tance. However, the horses, taking fright 
 at Paul's sudden appearance, ran off, almost 
 upsetting the carriage. 
 
 Paul took an ice in the Cafe" de 1' Europe : 
 a number of persons examined him atten- 
 tively and then changed their seats, nodding 
 their heads in a knowing manner. 
 
 He entered the theatre of Pulcinella, where 
 they were giving a tutio da rider e. The prin- 
 cipal actor forgot his lines ; after a moment's 
 hesitation, however, he went on with his part ; 
 but in the last act of the pantomime his false 
 nose fell off, and, when he attempted to 
 apologize and explain the cause of his mis- 
 fortunes his tongue suddenly refused to move, 
 as Paul's eyes fastened themselves upon his 
 and deprived him of the power of speech. 
 
 Those who were seated near Paul rose in a 
 body and changed their stalls. M. d'Aspre- 
 mont rose to go, without having noticed the 
 strange effect his . presence had produced ;
 
 JETTATURA. 55 
 
 while in the lobby he heard the spectators 
 whisper to one another as he passed by : 
 " A jettatore ! A jettatore ! " 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE day after he had sent the horns, Comte 
 d'Altaville called upon Miss Ward. The 
 young girl was taking afternoon tea in com- 
 pany with her uncle, precisely as if she had 
 been in a red-brick house at Ramsgate, in- 
 stead of on a plastered terrace in Naples, 
 surrounded by cactus, fig-trees and aloes. 
 It is a characteristic peculiarity of the Saxon 
 race, never to adapt its insular habits to 
 novel surroundings. 
 
 The Commodore was in unusual good 
 humor. By means of a chemical apparatus he 
 had succeeded in turning out a cake of ice, 
 and, in this manner, had continued to keep 
 his butter solid. He was buttering a slice of 
 bread with great gusto, preparatory to trans- 
 forming it into a sandwich. 
 
 After the formalities of a first greeting, 
 Alicia, unmindful of the abrupt manner in 
 which it was done, suddenly changed the 
 conversation, and turning towards the young 
 Neapolitan Comte, asked : 
 
 " What is the significance of the strange
 
 5 6 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 gift which accompanied your flowers ? Vice, 
 my servant, pretends that it is a talisman 
 against the fascino; but this is all the satis- 
 faction she would give me." 
 
 " Vice is very sensible," replied the Comte 
 Altavilla, bowing politely. 
 
 " But what is the fascino? " continued the 
 young lady ; " I am not very well acquainted 
 with your African superstitions for I pre- 
 sume the word designates some popular 
 belief?" 
 
 " The fascino is the pernicious influence 
 exercised by those who possess or rather 
 those who are afflicted with the evil eye." 
 
 " Pardon me," remarked Miss Ward, " but 
 I really do not understand you ; the meaning 
 of the evil eye is as mysterious to me as that of 
 fascino" 
 
 " I will attempt to explain to the best of 
 my ability," replied d'Altavilla ; " but, as you 
 are sceptical like all Englishwomen, I pre- 
 sume you will at once jump at the conclusion 
 that I am a savage and that my clothes con- 
 ceal a skin tattooed in blue and red. I am, 
 however, perfectly civilized ; I was educated 
 in Paris, and I speak both French and Eng- 
 lish ; I have read Voltaire ; I believe in teleg- 
 raphy, electricity and railroads ; I eat mac- 
 aroni with a fork, and I wear three different 
 pairs of gloves every day."
 
 JETTATURA. 57 
 
 The Commodore, who was busily engaged 
 in buttering his second sandwich, was now 
 all attention, his curiosity having been 
 aroused by d'Altavilla's strange introduction. 
 
 " Now that you have showed yourself in 
 your true colors," laughingly remarked Miss 
 Ward, " I would be sceptical indeed were I 
 to suspect you of barbarism. But that which 
 you wish to explain must indeed be either 
 very terrible or very ridiculous or you would 
 not beat about the bush in this way " 
 
 " Yes, it is very terrible, and, as you say 
 very ridiculous," continued the Comte ; " and 
 if I were in Paris or London I might possibly 
 share your mirth and laugh with you, but 
 here, in Naples " 
 
 " It is far more serious ; and, I suppose, 
 you cannot even smile ? " 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " Then kindly enlighten me as to the 
 meaning of fascino" said Miss Ward, who 
 was impressed by the Neapolitan's deter- 
 mined manner. 
 
 " This superstition is as old as the world. It 
 is alluded to in the Bible ; Virgil speaks of it 
 in most decided terms, and the bronze medals 
 found at Pompeii and Herculaneum, and the 
 unmistakable signs on the walls of the un- 
 earthed houses clearly prove how universal this 
 superstition was. The people of the East still
 
 $8 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 believe in it at the present day. Red and green 
 bands are painted on the side of Moorish build- 
 ings in order to protect the inhabitants from 
 the evil spirit. A sculptured hand is plainly 
 seen on the door of Judgment of the Alhambra. 
 All this certainly denotes the antiquity of the 
 superstition, even if it has no fonndation. 
 When millions of men have shared this 
 opinion during thousands of years, it stands 
 to reason that such a general belief must be 
 founded on actual facts and a succession of 
 actual events. I scarcely imagine that the 
 eminent savants who have written treatises 
 on the subject, would have made known 
 their opinions to the world unless they had 
 positive facts with which to prove their as- 
 sertions." 
 
 " Your argument is certainly open to criti- 
 cism," interrupted Miss Ward ; " for polythe- 
 ism was Homer's, Plato's, Aristotle's and 
 Socrates' religion. The latter even went so 
 far as to sacrifice a rooster to Esculapius." 
 
 " I admit all that, but at the present time 
 no one sacrifices bullocks to Jupiter." 
 
 " I should hope not ! " interrupted the 
 Commodore ; " they are sensible enough to 
 serve them up as rump and beefsteaks, in- 
 stead of wasting them upon the desert air ! " 
 
 " No one offers doves to Venus, peacocks 
 to Juno, or goats to Bacchus ; Christianity
 
 JETTATURA. 59 
 
 has replaced the poetic dreams of Greek my- 
 thology ; truth has triumphed over supersti- 
 tion, and still there are thousands of people 
 who dread the fatal effects of the fascino, or 
 to give it the popular name, the jettatura" 
 
 " I can readily understand that people of 
 low origin should permit themselves to be in- 
 fluenced by this idle superstition, but I can- 
 not imagine how a man of your education and 
 position can place faith in such nonsense," re- 
 marked Miss Ward. 
 
 " More than one man of high standing 
 hangs a pair of horns over his window," 
 continued the Comte, " and nails a sacrifice 
 over his door, while he never ventures forth 
 without being covered with amulets and 
 charms ; and I admit that, whenever I meet 
 zjettatore I hurry across the street, and, if i 
 cannot avoid his glance, I do not hesitate to 
 make the sign of the cross, as any lazzarone 
 would do ; and I flatter myself that I have 
 escaped their fatal influence, thanks to this 
 precaution." 
 
 Miss Ward was a Protestant, brought up 
 with liberal ideas, and she was not accus- 
 tomed to believe anything which had not been 
 explained to her entire satisfaction. The 
 Comte's eloquence surprised her. At first 
 she supposed he was only jesting, but his 
 earnest manner and the calm conviction with
 
 60 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 which he spoke soon caused her to change 
 her views. 
 
 " I will admit the existence of this super- 
 stition," she replied ; " I also believe you are 
 sincere in your fear of the evil eye and that 
 you are not trying to work on the fears of a 
 poor stranger ; but kindly give me some 
 positive proof of the existence of this super- 
 stition, for, though you may think me devoid 
 of poetic feeling, I assure you that I am very 
 incredulous, and whatever is mysterious, in- 
 explicable, or occult impresses me very little." 
 
 " You will not deny, Miss Alicia," contin- 
 ued the Comte, " the power of the human eye ; 
 in it the light of heaven combines with the 
 reflection of the soul ; the eye-ball is a lens 
 which concentrates the rays of life and the in- 
 tellect reflects itself in it as in a mirror. A 
 woman's loving glance softens the hardest 
 heart ; a hero's glance arouses the enthu- 
 siasm of an army, and the glance of a physi- 
 cian calms the madman like a shower of cold 
 water. A mother's look will even make a lion 
 recoil before her." 
 
 " You plead your cause with so much elo- 
 quence," interrupted Miss Ward, " that you 
 must pardon me if I am still doubtful." 
 
 " And the bird, which, palpitating with fear 
 and uttering plaintive cries, descends from 
 the topmost branch of a tree, from whence it
 
 JETTATURA. 6 1 
 
 could easily have flown away, to throw itself 
 into the open mouth of the serpent that has 
 charmed it, is certainly not moved by super- 
 stition, as it is not probable that the mothers 
 entertain their young with stories of the jetta- 
 tura as they sit aloft in their little nests. 
 Then, again, are the miasmas of typhoid fever, 
 of that pest, cholera, visible ? No mortal eye 
 can perceive the electric fluid as it runs down 
 the lightning-rod, and yet it attracts the light- 
 ning ! " 
 
 " It strikes me that the Comte's theory is 
 not so untenable after all," interrupted the 
 Commodore ; " I never could look at a toad's 
 golden eyes without feeling revulsion ; it acts 
 on me exactly as if I had taken an emetic ; 
 and yet the miserable reptile had more to 
 fear than I, who could have crushed it be- 
 neath the heel of my boot." 
 
 " Oh, uncle ! if you take sides with M. 
 d'Altavilla I shall have to acknowledge my- 
 self defeated," exclaimed Miss Ward. " I 
 am not strong enough to struggle against 
 such opposition. Although I might have 
 many objections to raise against this ocular 
 electricity, on the grounds that no physician 
 has ever mentioned it in his thesis, still I am 
 willing to admit its existence ; but will you 
 please inform me what power the pair of 
 horns you so kindly sent me, have to divert
 
 62 ROMA N TIC L1BRAR Y. 
 
 the fatal effects of the fascino, or jettatura, as 
 you call it ?" 
 
 " On the same principle that the point of 
 the lightning rod attracts the lightning," 
 answered d'Altavilla ; " the sharp points of the 
 horns on which \h&jettatore fixes his eyes will 
 divert the fatal fluid. An outstretched hand 
 or a bunch of coral charms has the same 
 effect." 
 
 " All this is very stupid, Monsieur le 
 Comte," remarked Miss Ward ; " you evi- 
 dently desire to impress me with the idea 
 that I am under the influence of some 
 dangerous fascino or jettatore, and you have 
 sent me the horns in order to divert their 
 fatal influence." 
 
 " I fear you have guessed the truth, Miss 
 Alicia," replied the Comte earnestly. 
 
 " I'd like to see one of those goggle-eyed 
 fellows trying to charm my niece ! " ex- 
 claimed the Commodore, bolting his third 
 sandwich. " Although I have passed my 
 sixtieth year, I haven't quite forgotten how 
 to use my fists," and he doubled up his 
 digits, firmly pressing his thumb against his 
 doubled fingers. 
 
 " Two fingers are sufficient, my lord," said 
 d'Altavilla, as he showed the Commodore how 
 to keep away the evil spirit in the most ap- 
 proved Neapolitan style. " As a rule, the
 
 JETTATURA. 63 
 
 jettatura is practised involuntarily ; it is only 
 exercised by those who possess the fatal 
 power, and frequently when the jettatori 
 realize their terrible affliction, they deplore 
 the effects even more than others ; we should, 
 therefore, avoid these unhappy beings, but 
 not persecute them. Besides, one can neu- 
 tralize "their fatal influence with a pair of 
 horns, outstretched fingers, or a bunch of 
 coral charms." 
 
 " It is really very curious," said the Com- 
 modore, who was partly convinced by d'Al- 
 tavilla's impressive calmness. 
 
 " I did not know that I came so constantly 
 in contact with these jettatori. I rarely 
 leave this terrace unless it is to take a drive 
 along the Villa Reale with my uncle, and I 
 have never noticed anything like what you 
 have described," said the young girl, whose 
 curiosity was now aroused, although she was 
 still as doubtful as before. " Of whom are 
 you suspicious ?" 
 
 " I am not suspicious, Miss Ward ; I am 
 positive of what I assert," replied the young 
 Neapolitan. 
 
 " Then, for pity's sake, tell us the name of 
 this fatal being?" exclaimed Miss Ward, 
 rather sarcastically. 
 
 But d'Altavilla was silent.
 
 64 ROMA N 1 '1C L1BRAR Y. 
 
 " It is always well to know whom to guard 
 against," added the Commodore. 
 
 The young Comte reflected for a moment ; 
 then he rose, and approaching the Commo- 
 dore, he bowed politely and said : 
 
 " Milord Ward, I have the honor to ask 
 the hand of your niece." 
 
 At this unexpected request Alicia blushed 
 to the roots of her dark hair, and from red 
 die Commodore turned to scarlet. 
 
 The Comte d'Altavilla certainly had a right 
 to aspire to the hand of Miss Ward ; he be- 
 longed to one of the oldest and most noble 
 families in Naples ; he was handsome, young, 
 wealthy, in favor at court, highly educated, 
 and of irreproachable manners. He was 
 therefore perfectly justified in making this 
 proposal ; but it was the abrupt and unex- 
 pected manner in which it was made which 
 took the Commodore and his niece by sur- 
 prise. But d'Altavilla did not appear the 
 least discouraged or disconcerted, although 
 he awaited the answer with a palpitating 
 heart. 
 
 " After the Commodore had partly recov- 
 ered from his surprise he turned to the Comte 
 and said : 
 
 " My dear d'Altavilla, I must confess that 
 while I am highly honored by your pro- 
 posal, it has taken me by surprise. Upon my
 
 JETTATUKA. 65 
 
 word, I don't know what to say ; I have not 
 even consulted my niece. You were speak- 
 ing of fascirws,jettaturi, horns, charms, open 
 and closed ringers, and of a host of other 
 things which are in no wise connected with 
 marriage, and the next moment you take my 
 breath away by asking for Alicia's hand ! 
 All this appears very strange, and you must 
 pardon me if I seem a little at sea. Such a 
 union would be very proper, I am sure, but I 
 imagine my niece has other intentions. It 
 is true that such an old sea-dog as I am can't 
 read a young girl's heart, but I think I'm 
 about right, when " 
 
 At this moment, Alicia, seeing that her 
 uncle was getting mixed up, came to his res- 
 cue and at the same time put an end to a 
 scene which was becoming embarrassing. 
 
 " When an honest man asks for the hand of 
 a young girl, Comte, she has no right to take 
 offence, but she certainly has the right to be 
 surprised at the strange manner in which the 
 request is made. I requested you to disclose 
 the name of this pretended jetlatore whose 
 fatal influence you claim is dangerous to me, 
 and you suddenly change the subject by ask- 
 ing my uncle to honor you with the hand of 
 his niece in marriage I really cannot under- 
 stand your motive for so doing." 
 
 " It is because a nobleman does not care to
 
 66 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 turn informer," replied Altavilla, " and be- 
 cause a husband alone has the right to pro- 
 tect his wife. But take your time to make up 
 your mind. I can afford to wait a few days 
 for your answer, and, until then, the horns, if 
 properly exposed, will protect you against all 
 fatal influences." 
 
 And with a profound bow, the Comte took 
 his departure. 
 
 Vice, the fawn-colored servant with the 
 matted hair, who had come on the terrace to 
 remove the tea-pot and the cups, had over- 
 heard the latter part of the conversation. 
 She despised Paul d'Aspremont with all the 
 aversion which a peasant of the Abruzzi, 
 hardly civilized by two or three years of servi- 
 tude, can have for an unbeliever suspected of 
 jettaturaj on the other hand, she looked upon 
 the Comte d' Altavilla as a sort of Adonis, and 
 she could not understand how it was that 
 Miss Ward preferred a pale and sickly 
 looking young man, whom she, Vice, would 
 not have condescended to notice even if he 
 had not had an evil eye. Besides, she could 
 not conceive the delicate motives which 
 prompted the Comte to act as he had done, 
 and in the hope of protecting her mistress, 
 whom she dearly loved, from impending evil, 
 Vice leaned over towards Miss Ward as she 
 whispered in her ear :
 
 JETTATURA. 67 
 
 " I can tell you the name the Comte d'Alta- 
 villa refused to disclose." 
 
 " I forbid you to mention it, Vice, if you 
 care for me at all," replied Alicia. " Such 
 superstition is positively disgraceful, and I 
 will brave it like a Christian maiden who has 
 nothing to fear but her God." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " JETTATORE ! Jettatore ! These words 
 were certainly addressed to me," muttered 
 Paul d' Aspremont to himself as he returned 
 to the hotel. " I don't know what they mean, 
 but they certainly mean something injurious 
 or ridiculous. What is there about me to 
 attract attention ? I believe, even if I say it 
 myself, that I am neither handsome nor 
 ugly, neither tall nor short, thin nor stout, 
 and that I could pass unnoticed in a crowd. 
 There is nothing at all eccentric in my dress ; 
 I do not wear a turban illuminated with can- 
 dles like M. Jourdain in Le Bourgeois Gentil- 
 hotnme; neither do I wear a waistcoat embroid- 
 ered with the rising sun ; a nigger does not 
 precede me with a pair of cymbals : my indi- 
 viduality, which is unknown in Naples, any 
 way, is concealed beneath an ordinary suit, 
 and I am not at all different in appearance
 
 68 ROMANTIC L1BRAR Y. 
 
 from any of the swells who stroll along 
 the Rue de Tolede, or on the largo of the pal- 
 ace, unless it be a little less cravat, a little 
 less scarf-pin, a little less embroidered shirt- 
 front, a little less waistcoat, a little less 
 watch-chain, and considerably less curls. 
 
 " Perhaps my hair isn't properly frizzed ! 
 To-morrow I will have the barber do my hair 
 up in crimps, as ladies do. And yet, strangers 
 are not curiosities here, and a slight differ- 
 ence in dress would scarcely justify the mys- 
 terious word and the strange gesture my pres- 
 ence provokes. I have also noticed an ex- 
 pression of antipathy and fear, in the eyes 
 of the people who recoil from me at my 
 approach. How can I possibly have of- 
 fended these persons, whom I have never 
 met before ? A passing tourist never ex- 
 cites any other feeling than that of indif- 
 ference, unless he comes from a far-off 
 clime or is a specimen of an unknown race ; 
 but the steamer unloads hundreds of just 
 such tourists as I am every week, and who 
 bothers his head about them except the fac- 
 chini and the hotel-keepers ? I have not 
 killed my brother, since I never had a brother 
 to kill, and therefore cannot bear the mark of 
 Cain on my forehead and yet strong men 
 tremble and recoil at my approach. I never 
 produced such an effect either in Paris, Lon-
 
 JETTATURA. 69 
 
 non, Vienna or any of the cities I have visited; 
 sometimes I have been accused of being too 
 proud ; I have been told that I affect the 
 English sneer y and that I imitate Lord 
 Byron, but I have always received the wel- 
 come accorded a gentleman, and my advances, 
 although a rare occurrence, were invariably 
 appreciated. A three-days sea voyage from 
 Marseilles to Naples certainly cannot have 
 changed my appearance so as to render me 
 hideous or grotesque in the eyes of the ladies, 
 who, I flatter myself, were always favorably 
 impressed with me were it otherwise I never 
 could have won the love of Alicia Ward, a 
 charming young girl, a celestial creature one 
 of Tom Moore's angels ! " 
 
 It was very late. With the exception of 
 Paul, all the other guests had already retired. 
 Gelsomina, one of the servants who took part 
 in the discussion in the kitchen of the hotel 
 between Scazziga and Timberio, was awaiting 
 his arrival to lock up for the night. Nanella, 
 the other girl, whose night on it was, begged 
 Gelsomina to take her place, as she was afraid 
 to meet the man suspected of being a jetta- 
 tore. Gelsomina was well prepared for the 
 meeting an enormous bunch of charms 
 was suspended around her neck, while two 
 little coral horns dangled from her shapely 
 ears, and the index of her right hand was
 
 7 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 pointed at the intruder in a manner which 
 would undoubtedly have won the approba- 
 tion of M. Andrea de Jorio, author of the 
 Mimica degli antichi investigata nelgestire napo- 
 letano. 
 
 The courageous girl, concealing her right 
 hand beneath a fold of her dress, presented a 
 light to M. d'Aspremont with her left, while 
 the piercing, almost defiant, look she directed 
 upon him compelled the young man to lower 
 his eyes, a victory which appeared to greatly 
 please Gelsomina. 
 
 After the traveller had gone up-stairs, and 
 the noise of his footsteps was no longer 
 heard, Gelsomina raised her head with a 
 triumphant air, as she said to herself : " I 
 made him lower his eyes, all the same ; may 
 Saint Januarius confound him, he is a bad 
 man ; but I am sure no harm will come to 
 me now." 
 
 Paul slept badly ; he was tormented with 
 curious dreams relating to the strange events 
 which had transpired during the past twenty- 
 four hours : he imagined himself surrounded 
 by a group of scowling, threatening faces, 
 on which hatred, anger, and fear were plainly 
 depicted ; then the faces disappeared ; long, 
 skinny, bony fingers, with horny knuckles, 
 were pointed at him in the darkness, threat- 
 ening him with cabalistic gestures. The nails
 
 JETTATURA. 71 
 
 of these hands, resembling the talons of a 
 vulture, seemed to menace the destruction of 
 his eyesight. By a superhuman effort he 
 succeeded in thrusting aside these hands ; 
 but they were immediately replaced by a 
 heap of horned heads of different animals, 
 which charged upon him and attempted to 
 drive him into the sea, where his body was 
 torn to shreds on a jagged coral reef ; a wave 
 carried him back to the shore, torn and dis- 
 figured and more dead than alive ; and, like 
 Byron's Don Juan, he perceived, while in a 
 trance, the face of a young woman leaning 
 over him it was not Haide*e, but Alicia, 
 more beautiful even than the fair creature 
 painted by the poet. The young girl was 
 making desperate efforts to draw the inani- 
 mate body on the sands, and when she asked 
 Vice, the dark-skinned servant, to lend her a 
 helping hand, the latter refused with a coarse 
 laugh : finally Alicia's arms were deprived of 
 their strength, and a retreating wave washed 
 him out to sea. 
 
 These frightful dreams tormented the 
 sleeper until the break of day, and Paul 
 arose with anxiety, as if some terrible secret 
 had been revealed to him during his sleep. 
 He closed his eyes to shut out the truth ; for 
 the first time life seemed a burden to him. 
 He even doubted Alicia ; the Comte d'Al-
 
 7 2 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 tavilla's contented air, the attention with which 
 the young girl listened to his song, the Com- 
 modore's approving smile, all this recurred 
 to him, embellished with a hundred minute 
 details, filling his heart with sorrow and add- 
 ing still more to the feeling of melancholy 
 which had taken possession of him. 
 
 The sunlight has the power to dispel all 
 nocturnal visions, and the demon of darkness 
 spread out his wings and disappeared with 
 the first rays of the rising sun. It was soon 
 shining brightly in the clear sky, reflecting 
 its golden rays on the blue sea, which was as 
 clear as crystal. Paul slowly recovered his 
 equanimity ; he soon forgot the frightful 
 dreams and the curious impression caused by 
 his appearance the night before, or, if he 
 thought of them at all, it was with a smile at 
 their extravagance. 
 
 He took a stroll to Chiaja to while away 
 the time, and amused himself by gazing at 
 the Neapolitans as they hurried to their 
 work ; the merchants were calling out their 
 wares for sale in the quaint dialect of the 
 country, unintelligible to Paul, who did not 
 speak Italian, with those excited gestures 
 which are unknown to the children of a 
 Northern clime ; but every time he halted in 
 front of a shop, the proprietor, instead of 
 appearing pleased at the prospect of dis-
 
 JETTATURA. 73 
 
 posing of some of his stock, assumed a terri- 
 fied air, as he murmured an invocation in a 
 low tone, and pointed his finger at the intru- 
 der ; while the gossips and old hags who 
 infest Chiaja were even still more rude in 
 their actions, and showered the vilest epithets 
 upon him as they shook their fists at him. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ON hearing the jeers and curses of the 
 people of Chiaja, M d'Aspremont believed 
 that he was the victim of the vulgar custom 
 of ridiculing and guying well-dressed gentle- 
 men who pass through the fish-market ; but 
 the disgust and fright they evinced was so 
 marked that he soon realized that this was 
 not the case ; the word jettatore, which had 
 already reached his ears in the theatre of San 
 Carlino, was repeated here on every side, only 
 this time those who pronounced it were more 
 threatening in their manner ; so he walked 
 away slowly, carefully avoiding to fix eyes 
 which were the cause of so much trouble, on 
 any one. On his way, Paul passed a book- 
 store ; he halted before it, and began to fumble 
 the leaves of the exposed volumes for want of 
 something better to do ; in this manner his 
 back was turned upon the passing throng, and,
 
 74 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 with his eyes fixed upon the pages of the 
 books, he avoided attracting its attention. 
 At one moment he was tempted to charge 
 upon the crowd and pay them for their inso- 
 lence with a shower of blows with his cane, 
 but he refrained from doing so, influenced by 
 a vague, superstitious terror. He remembered 
 how he once had struck an impudent coach- 
 man with his cane and had unhappily hit him 
 on the temple, killing him instantly ; this 
 involuntary murder constantly haunted Paul, 
 and warned him against violence. 
 
 After having examined a large number of 
 books his eyes suddenly fell upon the " Jetta- 
 tura " of Signer Nicolo Valetta ; the title of 
 the book shone in his eyes in letters of fire, 
 and it seemed to him as if the volume had 
 been placed there by the hand of fate ; he 
 flung the price of the book at the shopkeeper, 
 who was gazing at him in evident terror and 
 toyed with a bunch of coral charms on his 
 watch-chain. Hurrying to the hotel d'Aspre- 
 mont locked himself in his room in order not 
 to be interrupted in his perusal of the book, 
 which, he expected, would enlighten him as to 
 the meaning of the curious events which had 
 transpired since his sojourn in Naples. 
 
 Signer Valetta's treatise on the evil spirit 
 is as well known in Naples as the " Secrets du 
 grand Albert" " F Etteila" or "La clef des
 
 JETTATURA. 75 
 
 Songes" are in Paris. Valetta defines the 
 jettatura, explains how it can be identified by 
 certain marks, and by what means one can pro- 
 tect himself against its fatal influence : he 
 divides the jettatori into several distinct 
 classes, arranging them in regular order in 
 accordance with the power they possess, and 
 discusses at great length all details connected 
 with this curious question. 
 
 If he had picked this book up in Paris, 
 d'Aspremont would merely have glanced over 
 it in that careless manner with which one 
 fumbles the leaves of an old almanac, and he 
 would have heartily laughed at the serious 
 manner in which the author treated this non- 
 sense ; but in his present frame of mind, 
 agitated as he was by a number of curious 
 incidents, he read the book over with a feel- 
 ing of horror. Although he did not attempt 
 to penetrate its meaning, the secrets of hell 
 were plainly revealed to him ; they were no 
 longer a mystery to him, and he was now fully 
 aware of the fatal power he possessed he 
 was a jettatore ! He was obliged to acknowl- 
 edge it, for he had every symptom and mark 
 by which Valetta identifies them. 
 
 It sometimes happens that a man who has 
 always thought himself blessed with an iron 
 constitution, accidentally opens a medical 
 work, and, in reading the pathological des-
 
 7<5 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 cription of a disease therein, suddenly recog- 
 nizes the symptoms in his own system ; thus 
 enlightened he feels, at the discovery of each 
 fresh symptom, new evidence of its existence 
 within himself, and he trembles at the seeming 
 approach of a death he never dreamed of. 
 Paul experienced just such an impression. 
 
 He placed himself before a mirror, and 
 gazed at himself in awe-stricken terror : the 
 incongruity of his appearance, composed as 
 it was of perfect parts, which, as a rule, 
 are not found in one person, made him look 
 for all the world like the archangel after his 
 expulsion from Paradise, and, as he stood 
 there before the mirror, the fibres of his eye- 
 balls wriggled like so many vipers ; his eye- 
 brows quivered like the bow which has just 
 shot forth the poisoned arrow ; the white fur- 
 row in his forehead resembled the white scar 
 of a burn, while his auburn hair seemed to shed 
 forth a reddish lustre not unlike the flames 
 which are said to exist in hell, and the deadly 
 pallor of his skin made every feature of his 
 fiendish countenance stand out in bold relief. 
 
 Paul was afraid of himself. He imagined 
 that the reflection of his eyes in the mirror 
 was casting poisoned darts at him picture 
 to yourself Medusa gazing at her charming 
 but fearful countenance on the dull surface of 
 a brass buckler.
 
 JETTATURA. 77 
 
 Paul realized that he was a fiend in human 
 form ! Although endowed with noble and 
 affectionate instincts, he carried misfortune 
 wherever he went ; his involuntary glance, 
 charged with venom, brought suffering and 
 misery to those on whom it rested. He pos- 
 sessed the fatal power to collect, concentrate 
 and distil the dangerous electricity and mor- 
 bid miasmas and other frightful infections of 
 the atmosphere and hurl them broadcast upon 
 those near him. A number of curious inci- 
 dents in his past which he had always cred- 
 ited to chance alone were now clearly ex- 
 plained ; he distinctly remembered all sorts 
 of strange misadventures and accidents 
 which he never could account for. 
 
 He recalled his life, year by year ; he re- 
 membered his mother, who died in giving him 
 birth ; the sad fate of his schoolmates, the 
 dearest of whom fell from a tree and was 
 killed while Paul encouraged him to steal 
 some apples ; an excursion in a canoe which 
 begun most auspiciously with two of his com- 
 rades, and from which he alone returned, after 
 the most frantic efforts to recover the bodies 
 of the unfortunate lads who had fallen over- 
 board ; the fencing bout in which his foil 
 broke off, transforming the foil into a sword, 
 and in which he dangerously wounded his 
 dearest friend all these accidents were com-
 
 78 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 raon enough, to be sure, and Paul had always 
 looked upon them as such ; but he knew dif- 
 ferently since he had perused Valetta's work, 
 and he reasoned that the fatal influence of 
 the jettatura certainly had a hand in all these 
 misfortunes. Such a continuous number of 
 accidents in connection with one person was 
 unnatural. 
 
 Another incident, and of more recent date, 
 recurred to him in all its horrible reality, and 
 in no little wise assisted in convincing him 
 that he was undoubtedly accursed. 
 
 While in London, he frequently went to 
 Her Majesty's Theatre, where he was greatly 
 impressed with the grace and talent of a 
 young English danseuse. Without, however, 
 being more infatuated with her than a man 
 of the world is with one of the graceful figures 
 contained in a painting or an engraving, he fol- 
 lowed her movements, as she whirled about 
 in the mazes of the ballet or charmed the 
 spectators in a pas seulej it pleased him to 
 gaze at the sad young face, which never 
 flushed at the applause of the audience, her 
 beautiful blonde hair, crowned with golden 
 stars, the chaste white shoulders, which in- 
 stinctively shivered under the opera-glasses 
 which followed her movements, the shapely 
 limbs which were plainly visible through the 
 thin gauze skirt and which shone beneath
 
 JETTATURA. 79 
 
 their silken covering like the marble of an 
 antique statue ; each time she approached the 
 footlights, he either loudly applauded her or 
 raised his eyeglass in order to see the better. 
 
 One night, the danseuse, carried away by 
 the momentum of the dance, came too near 
 the glittering line of gas-jets which separated 
 the ideal from the real world. Her slender 
 draperies, fluttering like the wings of a dove 
 about to take its flight, suddenly came in 
 contact with a gas-jet, and the light material 
 was soon ablaze. In a moment the flames 
 enveloped the young girl, who ran about for 
 a few seconds surrounded by a mass of fire ; 
 then, turning around, she rushed madly 
 towards the wings, where she fell down an- 
 other victim of that insatiable fiend, the fire 
 king. Paul was deeply pained by this calam- 
 ity, but he never felt any remorse, as he did 
 not suppose he was in any way responsible 
 for her death. 
 
 But he was now convinced that the obsti- 
 nacy with which he had gazed at the danseuse 
 had more or less to do with her untimely end. 
 He looked upon himself as an assassin ; he 
 was afraid of himself, and he wished that he 
 had never been born. 
 
 A violent reaction followed this prostra- 
 tion ; he burst into a loud laugh and flung 
 Valetta's book from him.
 
 8o ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 " Decidedly," he exclaimed, " I am either 
 a madman or a fool ! The hot sun of Naples 
 has probably affected my brain. What would 
 the members of my club say if they heard that 
 I was actually bothering my head with the 
 absurd question whether I am, yes or no, 
 a jettatore ! " 
 
 Paddy knocked discreetly at the door. 
 Paul drew the bolt, and the valet handed him 
 a note with Miss Ward's compliments. 
 
 M. d'Aspremont broke the seal and read 
 as follows : 
 
 " Are you angry with me, Paul ? You did 
 not call last evening, and your sorbet au citron 
 melted in its cup while we waited for you. 
 Until nine o'clock I listened attentively for 
 the sound of your carriage-wheels ; then I lost 
 all hoge, and I quarrelled with the Commo- 
 dore. See how just women are ! Undoubt- 
 edly, Pulcinella with his red nose, and Don 
 Simon and Donna Pangrazia must be a great 
 attraction, as my secret police have informed 
 me that you passed last evening in the theatre 
 at San Carlino. And you have not written 
 a single one of those so-called important let- 
 ters. Why not honestly confess that you are 
 jealous of the Comte Altavilla ? I thought 
 you had more pride, and I am surprised at 
 your modesty. You need have no fear, how- 
 ever. M. d'Altavilla is a great deal too 
 handsome, and I do not fancy this Apollo 
 with his bunch of coral charms. If I did what 
 is considered proper I would write to say
 
 JETTATURA. 81 
 
 that I have not even missed you ; but, since 
 I must tell the truth, let me add that the time 
 passed slowly without you, and that I have 
 been extremely nervous and ill-humored ; I 
 almost boxed Vice's ears ; the girl was laugh- 
 ing away as if she had taken leave of her 
 senses but I really cannot say what has 
 caused this unusual levity. A. W." 
 
 This humorous and sarcastic epistle brought 
 Paul to his senses. He dressed in hot haste, 
 ordered a carriage, and soon the doubtful 
 Scazziga was snapping his whip as his horses 
 galloped over the lava pavement and through 
 the ever varying crowd on the quai of Santa- 
 Lucia. 
 
 " I say, Scazziga, why all this hurry ? You 
 will surely upset us ! " called out M. d'Aspre- 
 mont. The coachman turned around to re- 
 ply, and met Paul's furious glance. A stone 
 he had not seen struck one of the wheels, 
 knocking him clean off the box. Active as a 
 monkey, he sprang back in his seat, but 
 there was a big lump, as large as a hen's egg, 
 in the middle of his forehead. 
 
 " I'll be hanged if I turn around the next 
 time you have anything to say ! " he grumbled : 
 " Timberio and Falsacappa were right he is 
 a jettatore ! I will buy myself a pair of horns 
 to-morrow they can't do any harm even if 
 they don't do any good." 
 
 This little incident annoyed Paul ; he added
 
 82 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 this last accident to the series of misfortunes 
 with which he had been identified ; it is no un- 
 usual occurrence for a carriage to run against 
 a stone, and a clumsy coachman frequently 
 loses his seat. There was therefore nothing 
 so very wonderful in this, after all. And yet, 
 the effect had followed the cause so promptly, 
 Scazziga's fall coincided so exactly with the 
 glance he had given him, that all his doubts 
 returned. 
 
 u I have half a mind to get out of this 
 wonderful country," he said to himself. " I 
 can feel my brain rattling in my head like a 
 dried nut in its shell. But if I confided my 
 fears to Alicia she would simply laugh at me, 
 and the climate is favorable to her health. 
 Her health ! why, she was strong and healthy 
 when I first met her. And yet, before my 
 very eyes, I have seen her growing thinner and 
 thinner every day ! How her bright eyes 
 become dimmed in my presence, and her 
 shapely hand has fallen away at my touch ! 
 One would suppose that consumption had 
 already claimed her as its own. In my 
 absence, she has regained her strength, the 
 bloom has returned to her cheek, and her 
 chest, which caused her physician no end of 
 anxiety, has ceased to trouble her ; delivered 
 of my fatal presence, she would live for years. 
 Am I not killing her? Have I not involun-
 
 JETTATURA. 83 
 
 tarily east the fascino's spell about her ? But, 
 after all, I can see no occasion for worriment, 
 although she did have a bad spell the other 
 evening ; most English girls are subject to 
 lung troubles." 
 
 These thoughts filled Paul's mind until the 
 end of the journey. When he presented him- 
 self upon the terrace, the immense pair of 
 Sicilian bull's horns presented by the Comte 
 Altavilla was the first object to meet his view. 
 Noticing that Paul had remarked them, the 
 Commodore turned blue : that was his style 
 of blushing, for, not so discreet as his niece, 
 he had lent a friendly ear to Vice. 
 
 Alicia, with an imperative gesture, motioned 
 to the domestic to remove the horns, and 
 fixing her lovely eyes, filled with love and 
 confidence, on Paul, gave him a kindly wel- 
 come. 
 
 " Let them remain where they are," said 
 Paul to Vice ; " they are very beautiful." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE fact that Paul had condescended to 
 notice the horns presented by the Comte 
 Altavilla appeared to please the Commodore ; 
 while Vice smiled, showing her white fangs, 
 and Alicia, with a rapid glance, seemed to
 
 84 ROMA N TIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 question Paul without eliciting a reply in 
 return. 
 
 A painful silence followed. 
 
 The first minutes of a visit, no matter how 
 frequent the visitor may call or how intimate 
 he may be, are always embarrassing. The 
 Commodore was playing with his thumbs ; 
 d'Aspremont gazed fixedly at the horns 
 which he had forbidden Vice to remove, and 
 Alicia pretended to tie the red bow of her 
 white muslin wrapper. 
 
 It was Miss Ward who first broke the ice, 
 with that freedom enjoyed by young English 
 girls, so reserved and modest after mar- 
 riage. 
 
 " Really, Paul, you have been anything but 
 agreeable during the past few days. Is your 
 gallantry a rare hot-house flower which blooms 
 only on English soil, or does the hot sun of 
 Naples retard its development ? How devo- 
 ted, how attentive you were in our little home 
 in Lincolnshire ! You approached me with 
 your hand on your heart, and with words of 
 love on your lips, always prepared to fall on 
 your knees before the idol of your dreams 
 in fact you were just such a model lover as 
 one reads about in novels." 
 
 " I love you more then ever, Alicia," 
 replied d'Aspremont in a voice full of emotion, 
 although he did not remove his eyes from the
 
 JETTATURA. 85 
 
 horns which hung on one of the pillars of the 
 terrace. 
 
 " You say it so mournfully that one must 
 indeed be confident to believe it," continued 
 Miss Ward ; " I rather imagine that what 
 pleased you most was my diaphanous com- 
 plexion, my sylph-like form and ethereal 
 appearance ; my suffering gave me a certain 
 romantic charm which I no longer possess." 
 
 " Alicia ! You are lovelier now than ever 
 before ! " 
 
 " Words, words, idle words, as Shakespeare 
 says. I am so beautiful, in fact, that you do 
 not condescend to notice me." 
 
 And she spoke the truth ; Paul had not 
 fixed his eyes upon her during the entire con- 
 versation. 
 
 " Well," she said with a deep sigh, " I see 
 that I have become a stout and awkward peas- 
 ant, with a red, freckled face, without the 
 slightest distinction, and totally unfit to figure 
 at the county ball or in an album of cele- 
 brated beauties." 
 
 " Evidently, you delight in calumniating 
 yourself, Miss Ward," remarked Paul, with 
 his eyes still lowered upon the ground. 
 
 " You had much rather confess that I am 
 horrible. And it is your fault, too, Commo- 
 dore ; with your chicken-wings, your cutlets, 
 your filets de bo>uf, your little glass of Mad-
 
 86 ROMA N TIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 eira, your excursions on horseback, your salt 
 water baths, and gymnastic exercises you 
 have succeeded in dispelling M. d'Aspre- 
 mont's poetical illusions by transforming me 
 into a strong, healthy girl." 
 
 " You are tantalizing M. d'Aspremont and 
 you are guying me," replied the Commodore ; 
 11 but, at all events, my filets de bceuf are 
 strengthening, and a good glass of Madeira 
 has never harmed any one." 
 
 " How disappointed you must be, my dear 
 fellow ! you leave a skeleton behind you, and 
 you are confronted a few months later with 
 what the physicians term a strong, well-con- 
 stituted woman ! Now, listen to me, since 
 you haven't the courage to look for yourself, 
 and hold up your hands in terror I have 
 gained seven pounds since I left England ! " 
 
 " Eight pounds ! " proudly interrupted the 
 Commodore, who cared for Alicia with the 
 tenderness of a mother. 
 
 " Are you quite sure that I have really 
 gained as much as all that ? I am sure you 
 wish to disenchant M. d'Aspremont forever," 
 remarked Alicia laughingly. 
 
 While the young girl was tantalizing him 
 in this manner, Paul, who was now a firm 
 believer in his fatal power, never permitted 
 his eyes to rest upon her, and he either fixed 
 them upon the talismanic horns or turned
 
 JETTATURA. 87 
 
 them upon the broad expanse of water which 
 could plainly be seen from the terrace. 
 
 He asked himself whether it was not his 
 duty to desert Alicia, even though he passed 
 for a man devoid of horror and faith, to 
 go and end his days on some desert island 
 where, at least, his fatal power would not 
 strike down those with whom he came in 
 contact. 
 
 " I know why you are so serious," con- 
 tinued Alicia in the same jesting manner, 
 " the date of our marriage has been arranged 
 for next month ; and you shudder at the 
 thought of becoming the husband of a poor 
 country girl, devoid of style or figure. Very 
 well, then, I give you back your freedom 
 you are now at liberty to wed my friend 
 Sarah Templeton, who eats pickles and 
 drinks vinegar all day long in order to get 
 thin ! " 
 
 Then she burst into a hearty laugh, while 
 the Commodore and Paul joined her. 
 
 When she finally realized that her sarcasm 
 had no effect on d'Aspremont, she took 
 him by the hand, and leading him to the 
 piano, which was situated in a little arbor on 
 the terrace, she remarked while she opened 
 her music : 
 
 " I see, my dear, that you are in no humor 
 to talk to-day, so you will have to sing that
 
 88 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 which you cannot say. You will therefore 
 accompany me in this duettino, the music of 
 which is very easy." 
 
 Paul seated himself on the stool, while 
 Miss Ward stood up beside him in order to 
 follow the notes of the song. The Commo- 
 dore threw back his head, stretched out his 
 legs, and assumed the attitude of an attentive 
 listener, as was his wont on the pretence that 
 he was an ardent admirer of Beethoven and 
 Chopin, but he invariably fell fast asleep 
 before the last note on the first sheet was 
 reached, accompanying the singer with a 
 series of loud snorts and snores. 
 
 The duettino was a bright and pleasing 
 melody composed by Cimarosa, with words 
 by Me*tastase, and, as it is said that music 
 has the power to soothe the savage beast, 
 it no doubt dispels evil spirits as well. In a 
 few moments, Paul no longer thought of 
 magic horns, conjurer's fingers, or coral 
 charms ; he had completely forgotten Signer 
 Valetta's book and all the superstitions of 
 the jettatura. His mind was free from all 
 such thoughts and his soul ascended lightly, 
 together with Alicia's sweet voice, towards 
 the bright sun. 
 
 The grasshoppers ceased their chirping in 
 order to listen, while the brisk sea breeze car- 
 ried away the notes together with the leaves
 
 JETTATURA. 89 
 
 of the flowers which had fallen from the vases 
 on the terrace. 
 
 " My uncle sleeps as soundly as did the 
 seven giants in the cave. If it was not an old 
 habit, our pride as virtuosos might possibly 
 be ruffled," remarked Alicia as she closed 
 the piano. " While he is taking his siesta, will 
 you take a stroll in the garden with me, 
 Paul ? I have not yet pointed out the 
 charms of my Paradise to you." 
 
 And she took down a large straw hat from 
 the nail on which it was hanging. 
 
 Alicia professed to be decidedly original in 
 horticulture ; she did not permit any one to 
 pluck the flowers or trim the branches of the 
 bushes ; and that which charmed her most 
 when she first inspected the villa was the 
 natural and wild state of the vegetation. 
 
 The young people forced their way through 
 the dense underbrush. Alicia walked ahead, 
 and she laughed merrily whenever the 
 branches of a laurel-rose bush, displaced by 
 her, would fly back and swish Paul across 
 the face. 
 
 " Here is my favorite retreat, Paul," said 
 Alicia, pointing to a clump of picturesque 
 rocks, protected by an overhanging mass of 
 orange and myrtle leaves. 
 
 She seated herself on one of the rocks, 
 and pointing to the moss-covered earth,
 
 9 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 she requested Paul to kneel there at her 
 
 feet. 
 
 . " Now place your two hands in mine and 
 
 look me straight in the face. In a month's 
 
 time I will be your wife. Why do your eyes 
 
 avoid mine? " 
 
 At this moment, Paul, whose mind was 
 again filled with thoughts of the jettatura, 
 turned his head aside. 
 
 " Are you afraid to read a guilty thought 
 in my eyes ? You know my heart has been 
 yours since the first day you presented your- 
 self with that letter of introduction in our 
 parlor in Richmond. I belong to that proud) 
 romantic and loving English race which, in a 
 moment, conceives the love of a lifetime, and 
 those who love thus are never afraid to die. 
 Gaze into my eyes, Paul, I command you ; do 
 not turn aside your glance, or I shall begin 
 to believe that a gentleman who should fear 
 no one but his God is afraid of a vile super- 
 stition. Now turn your eyes upon me and 
 judge for yourself whether I am pretty 
 enough to take for a drive, in an open car- 
 riage in Hyde Park, after we are married." 
 
 Paul, carried away by her enthusiasm, fixed 
 his eyes upon Alicia in a glance full of pas- 
 sionate love. Suddenly the young girl's face 
 assumed a deathly pallor; a sharp pain pierced 
 her heart like an arrow; it seemed as if some
 
 JETTATURA. 9 1 
 
 fibre had parted in her bosom, and she raised 
 her handkerchief to her lips. A drop of 
 crimson blood stained the fine linen, but 
 Alicia hastily folded the handkerchief as she 
 murmured : 
 
 " Oh, thanks, Paul ! You have made me 
 so happy ! I thought you no longer loved 
 me ! " 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE movement made by Alicia to conceal 
 her handkerchief was not prompt enough, 
 however, to escape M. d'Aspremont's notice ; 
 a frightful pallor spread o'er Paul's features, 
 for in this he perceived an irrefutable proof 
 of his fatal power, and all sorts of strange 
 thoughts flitted through his mind. Was it 
 not his duty to put an end to himself as a 
 public malefactor, the unconscious perpetra- 
 tor of so much misery ? He would have 
 willingly bent his form under the severest 
 punishment and borne it without flinching, but 
 the thought of depriving the one he loved 
 above all else on earth of life, nearly made 
 him frantic. 
 
 The brave girl had not given way to the 
 painful sensation she experienced as Paul di- 
 rected his eyes upon her although it coin-
 
 92 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 cided precisely with the Comte d'Altavilla's 
 description. But, as we have said before, 
 Alicia was not superstitious. Besides, were 
 she convinced beyond all doubt of the exist- 
 ence of the fascino in Paul she would not 
 have recoiled, and Miss Ward would have 
 preferred to be stricken dead by a glance 
 from the man she loved, rather than break 
 her vow. Alicia resembled, in more ways 
 than one, Shakespeare's determined heroines, 
 whose love is pure and constant, and, when 
 once pledged, is retained forever. She had 
 pressed Paul's hand, and no other living man 
 would ever hold her shapely hand in his. She 
 considered herself pledged beyond recall, and 
 would have shrunk from the idea of any other 
 union. 
 
 Her gayety was, therefore, so natural or so 
 well assumed, that she would have deceived 
 the most attentive observer, and, bidding Paul 
 who was still kneeling at her feet, to rise, she 
 took his arm and led him through the wild 
 and dense shrubbery of the garden until they 
 reached a clearing through which they per- 
 ceived the blue sea stretching out before them 
 its calm, endless expanse. This beautiful vis- 
 ion dispersed all of Paul's sombre thoughts ; 
 Alicia confidingly leaned upon his arm, as if 
 she already considered herself his wife. The 
 two lovers finally regained the terrace, where
 
 JETTATURA. 93 
 
 the Commodore, still under the spell cast upon 
 him by the music, was fast asleep in his bam- 
 boo chair. Paul took his departure, and 
 Alicia, imitating the gestures of the Neapoli- 
 tans, sent him a kiss on the tips of her fingers 
 as she remarked : " Until to-morrow, dear 
 Paul," in a voice full of tenderness and love. 
 
 " How beautiful you are to-day, Alicia ! " 
 suddenly remarked the Commodore, awak- 
 ened from his nap, as he noticed the glowing 
 color on his niece's cheek. 
 
 " You spoil me, uncle ; and if I am not the 
 vainest girl in the three kingdoms it is cer- 
 tainly no fault of yours. Fortunately I do 
 not believe in flattery, even if it is disin- 
 terested." 
 
 " You are beautiful, dangerously beautiful,' 
 continued the Commodore, speaking to him- 
 self. " She reminds me of her mother, poor 
 Nancy, who died on her nineteenth birthday. 
 Such angels are not destined for this earth ; 
 at any moment wings are likely to make their 
 appearance on their shoulders ; they are too 
 white, too pure, too perfect, the red blood of 
 life is missing in these ethereal beings. The 
 Almighty, who blesses the earth with their 
 presence for a few years, seems impatient 
 to regain possession of them. This dazzling 
 beauty saddens my heart ; it seems almost 
 like the final parting."
 
 94 ROMA NTIC L 1BRA R Y. 
 
 " Well then, uncle, since I am so pretty it is 
 high time for me to marry," continued Miss 
 Ward, who noticed the frown gathering on 
 the Commodore's brow ; " the veil and the 
 orange-blossoms would become me well, I 
 fancy." 
 
 " You wish to marry ! Are you then so 
 anxious to leave your old weather-beaten 
 uncle, Alicia ? " 
 
 " I will never leave you, since M. d'Aspre- 
 mont agreed that we should all live together. 
 You know perfectly well I could never bear 
 to part from you." 
 
 " M. d'Aspremont ! M. d'Aspremont ! The 
 wedding has not taken place, however 
 
 " Has he not your word and mine ? Sir 
 Joshua Ward has never broken faith." 
 
 " I admit that he has my word ; there is no 
 use denying that," replied the Commodore, 
 evidently embarrassed. 
 
 " And the six months' limit you stipulated 
 has expired since a few days," continued 
 Alicia, with increasing color. 
 
 " Ah ! so you have counted the months, my 
 girl ; you had better not place too much con- 
 dence in his discreet manner." 
 
 " I love M. d'Aspremont," replied the girl 
 simply. 
 
 " This is the climax! " exclaimed Sir Joshua 
 Ward, who imbued with Vice's and d'Alta-
 
 JETTATURA. 95 
 
 villa's quaint notions, did not in the least like 
 the idea of having a jettatore for a son-in-law. 
 " Why can't you have somebody else ! " 
 
 " I have not two hearts," answered Alicia, 
 " and I can have but one love, even though I 
 were to die, like my mother, at nineteen." 
 
 " Don't talk such nonsense ! the idea of 
 mentioning death. I beg you to change the 
 subject," implored the Commodore. 
 
 " Have you anything with which to re- 
 proach M. d'Aspremont ?" 
 
 " Nothing decidedly nothing." 
 
 " Has he forfeited his honor in any possi- 
 ble way ? Has he ever shown himself to be 
 a coward or a liar ? Has he ever insulted a 
 woman or recoiled before a man ? Is his 
 coat-of-arms tarnished by any secret taint ? 
 Can not a young girl take his arm in public 
 without having to blush or lower her eyes ? " 
 
 " M. Paul d'Aspremont is a perfect gentle- 
 man ; no one can reproach him on that 
 score." 
 
 " Believe me, uncle, when I assure you that 
 if any such reason existed I would renounce 
 him without the slightest hesitation, and would 
 bury myself in some inaccessible retreat ; but 
 for no other reason, do you hear, will I break 
 my word," added Miss Ward, in a gentle 
 though determined tone. 
 
 The Commodore toyed with his thumbs, an
 
 9& ROMANTIC LIBRAE Y. 
 
 invariable habit of his when he was at a loss 
 what to say. 
 
 . " Why are you so cold to Paul ? " contin- 
 ued Miss Ward ; " formerly, you were so fond 
 of him ; why, you couldn't get along with- 
 out him in your house at Lincolnshire, and 
 you used to tell him, while you nearly 
 squeezed his fingers into a jelly, that he was 
 a worthy lad and that you would willingly 
 confide the happiness of a young girl to his 
 keeping." 
 
 " Why, of course, 1 loved Paul," said the 
 Commodore, evidently moved by these recol- 
 lections ; " but that which is obscure in the 
 English fog becomes as clear as daylight in 
 the sun of Naples " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Alicia, trem- 
 bling in spite of herself, while the color fled 
 from her cheeks, leaving her white as 
 marble. 
 
 " I mean that your Paul is possessed he 
 is a jettatore." 
 
 " What ! you ! my uncle ; you, Sir Joshua 
 Ward, a nobleman, a Christian, a subject of 
 Her British Majesty, a former officer in the 
 English navy, an enlightened and civilized 
 being, whom one would not hesitate to ques- 
 tion on any subject you who are wise and 
 highly educated, you who read the Bible and 
 the Gospel every night you do not hesitate
 
 JETTATURA. 97 
 
 to accuse Paul of being a jettatore ! Oh ! I 
 never expected this iromyou!" 
 
 " My dear Alicia," replied the Commodore, 
 " as long as you are not concerned, I may be 
 all you claim, but when a danger even an 
 imaginary danger, do you understand 
 threatens you, I become more superstitious 
 than a peasant of the Abruzzes, a lazzarone 
 of Chiaja, or even a Neapolitan comte. Paul 
 can look at me as long as he has a mind to 
 with his fatal eyes, I will remain as calm as 
 if facing the point of a sword or the barrel 
 of a pistol. The fascino won't take on my 
 tough hide, tanned by all the suns of the uni- 
 verse. I am only credulous on your account, 
 dear Alicia, and I confess that I feel a cold 
 perspiration dampening my forehead every- 
 time the unfortunate lad turns his eyes upon 
 you. He has no evil intentions, I know, and 
 he loves you dearer than life itself, but it 
 seems to me that, under his influence, your 
 features change, your color disappears, and 
 that you attempt to conceal a terrible pain ; 
 and then I am seized with a furious desire to 
 dig out the eyes of your Paul d'Aspremont 
 with the point of the horns presented by d'Al- 
 tavilla." 
 
 " My poor, dear uncle," said Alicia, deeply 
 moved by this sudden outburst on the part of 
 the old Commodore ; " our lives are in the
 
 98 ROMA NTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 hands of God ; not a prince expires on his 
 royal couch, not a beggar dies on his humble 
 cot, but his time has been marked in heaven ; 
 the fascino is powerless to do bodily injury, 
 and it is a crime for us to believe that a pe- 
 culiar look can exert evil influence upon us. 
 Now you know perfectly well, uncle, you were 
 not speaking seriously a moment ago ; your 
 love for me, no doubt, affected your judg- 
 ment. Am I not right ? Now, you would 
 not dare tell M. d'Aspremont that you would 
 withdraw the hand of your niece after you 
 had placed it within his, and that you no lon- 
 ger desired him as a son-in-law, on the absurd 
 plea that he was a jettatore ! " 
 
 " By Joshua, my patron saint, who stopped 
 the sun in its course ! " exclaimed the Com- 
 modore ; " I would not hurt the feelings of 
 your pretty M. Paul for anything. But what 
 matters it to me whether I appear ridiculous, 
 absurd, or unloyal, when your health, your 
 life perhaps, is at stake ! I gave your hand 
 in wedlock to a man, not to a charmer. I 
 pledged my word ; well, then, I will retract 
 my promise that's all ! and if he isn't satis- 
 fied, I will give him all the satisfaction he de- 
 
 sires 
 
 And the Commodore, exasperated beyond 
 measure, made an imaginary thrust, as if he 
 was attacking an adversary, heedless of the
 
 JETTATURA. 99 
 
 fact that he was suffering from a severe at- 
 tack of gout. 
 
 " Pardon me, Sir Joshua Ward, but you 
 would never do that," calmly remarked 
 Alicia. 
 
 The Commodore seated himself in his bam- 
 boo chair, all out of breath, and remained si- 
 lent. 
 
 " Well then, uncle, even though this 
 frightful accusation were true, would it be 
 honorable to abandon M. d'Aspremont when 
 he is guilty of a misfortune and not of a 
 crime ? Are you not aware that the harm he 
 might cause would not be occasioned by his 
 will, and that you have never seen a more 
 noble, generous, or loving disposition in man 
 before ? " 
 
 " One does not marry a vampire no matter 
 how good the brute's intentions may be," 
 grumbled the Commodore. 
 
 " But all this is chimerical, absurd, and 
 superstitious ; what is worse, however, is that 
 Paul has become alarmed at this superstition, 
 and he is afraid of himself ; he believes in 
 his fatal power, and every little accident 
 convinces him that he is correct in this sup- 
 position. Is it not my duty, I who am his 
 wife in the eyes of Heaven, and who will soon 
 be his in the eyes of the world blessed by 
 you, dear uncle to calm this excited imagi-
 
 I oo ROMA N TIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 nation, to chase away these phantoms, to al- 
 lay by kind words this wild anxiety, and 
 thus save from destruction this noble soul ? " 
 
 "You are always* right, Alicia," replied 
 the Commodore, " and I, whom you have just 
 called wise, am only an old madman. I 
 believe that this Vice is a witch, and that she 
 has turned my head with all her nonsense. 
 As to the Comte d'Altavilla, with his horns and 
 his collection of coral charms, he strikes me 
 as being a fool. No doubt, it was a stratagem 
 on his part to get Paul out of the way in 
 order to win you himself." 
 
 " It may be that the Comte d'Altavilla acted 
 as he did in perfectly good faith," remarked 
 Alicia with a smile ; " only a short time ago, 
 you shared his opinions on the jettatura." 
 
 " Do not abuse your advantage, Miss 
 Alicia ; besides, I have not so fully recovered 
 from my mistake that I may not err again. 
 The wisest thing, in my estimation, would be 
 to leave Naples by the first steamer and 
 return quietly to England. When Paul will 
 not have bull's horns, deer antlers, coral 
 charms, extended fingers,and all those devilish 
 arrangements constantly before him, he will 
 recover his former peace of mind, while I will 
 forget this unearthly business, which almost 
 made me break my word and commit an 
 action unworthy of a gentleman. Since it
 
 JETTATURA. IOI 
 
 has been so arranged, you will marry Paul. 
 You will reserve the parlor and the ground 
 floor of the house in Richmond for me, and 
 the left wing in the castle in Lincolnshire, and 
 we will all live happily together in England. 
 If your health requires a warmer climate, we 
 will rent a country seat at Cannes, where Lord 
 Brougham's beautiful place is situated, and 
 where, thank Heaven! this superstition relat- 
 ing to the jettatura is unknown. What do 
 you think of my plan, Alicia ? " 
 
 " It does not require my approval; am I 
 not the most obedient of nieces ? " 
 
 "Yes when I do what you want me to do, 
 you little minx," laughingly remarked the 
 Commodore as he entered the villa. 
 
 Alicia remained on the terrace a few 
 minutes longer; but whether this scene had 
 affected her to such a degree, or whether Paul 
 had. really exercised his fearful power on the 
 young girl, the warm breeze chilled her 
 through and through, and at night, as she was 
 feeling uncomfortable, she requested Vice 
 to wrap up her feet, which were as white and 
 cold as marble, in one of those pretty knitted 
 robes they make in Venice. 
 
 However, the glow-worms glittered among 
 the shrubbery and the crickets chirped, while 
 the yellow moon ascended the sky in a haze 
 of light and heat.
 
 102 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE day following that on which the scene 
 recorded above took place, Alicia, who had 
 passed a miserable night, scarcely touched 
 the potion Vice gave her every morning, and 
 placed it carelessly on the stand by the side 
 of the bed. While she did not feel any pain 
 in particular, she was completely worn out. 
 She requested Vice to give her a hand-glass, 
 for a young girl worries more about the al- 
 teration of her features caused by illness 
 than about the malady itself. She was 
 deathly pale, with the exception of two little 
 red spots, however, looking for all the world 
 like a couple of red rose-leaves in a bowl of 
 milk. Her eyes shone with unwonted bril- 
 liancy, lighted by the remaining sparks of a 
 burning fever ; but the bright red of her lips 
 was not as pronounced as usual, and, in order 
 to restore their accustomed color, she bit 
 them with her white teeth. 
 
 She arose from her couch, and enveloped 
 herself in a dressing-gown of white cashmere, 
 winding the gauze scarf around her neck, for 
 although the crickets chirped in the warmth 
 outside, she felt chilly, and she made her ap- 
 pearance on the terrace at the accustomed 
 hour in order not to arouse her uncle's sus-
 
 JETTATURA. 103 
 
 picions. She partook of a slight repast, 
 although she was not hungry at all, for the 
 faintest indication of an indisposition would 
 have been accredited to Paul's evil influence, 
 and this was precisely what Alicia wished to 
 avoid. 
 
 Then, excusing herself on the plea that the 
 bright sun was too strong for her, she retired 
 to her room, not, however, before assuring 
 her uncle that she had never felt better in all 
 her life. 
 
 " I hardly believe that," the Commodore 
 muttered to himself after she had retired ; 
 " she has a couple of bright spots near the 
 eyes, just like her mother, who also pretended 
 to have never felt better in all her life. What's 
 to be done ? To get Paul out of the way 
 would only hasten her death ; I must let 
 Nature have its way. Alicia is so young ! 
 But it is just such young people that grim 
 Death craves for ; he is as jealous as a wo- 
 man. Possibly I had better send for a physi- 
 cian, although of what use is medicine to an 
 angel ? And yet, all the symptoms had dis- 
 appeared. Ah ! if it should be you, accursed 
 Paul, whose breath thus destroys this divine 
 flower, I would strangle you with my own 
 hands. Nancy was not under the influence 
 of the jettatore, and yet she died. What if 
 Alicia should die ! No, it is not possible.
 
 104 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 I have not offended the Almighty in any pos- 
 sible way that He should reserve such a ter- 
 rible punishment for me. When that comes 
 to pass, I shall have already been sleeping for 
 many years in my native village under a 
 stone inscribed, Sacred to the memory of Sir 
 Joshua Ward. It is she who will go and 
 pray on the moss-covered grave of the old 
 Commodore. I don't know what's the matter 
 with me, but I am as blue and melancholy as 
 old Harry himself this morning ! " 
 
 In order to dispel these unpleasant 
 thoughts, the commodore added a little more 
 Jamaica rum to his cold tea, and sent for his 
 houka, an innocent recreation which he only 
 permitted himself in the absence of Alicia, 
 whose delicate constitution would not have 
 supported even this light smoke mingled with 
 perfumes. 
 
 He had already boiled the aromatic water, 
 and had blown three or four bluish clouds 
 towards the sky, when Vice announced the 
 Comte d'Altavilla. 
 
 " Sir Joshua," said the Comte after the 
 usual formalities, " have you thought over 
 my request of the other day ? " 
 
 " I have thought it over, Comte," replied 
 the Commodore ; "but you know my word is 
 pledged to M. Paul d'Aspremont." 
 
 " That may be, and yet there are cases
 
 JETTATURA. 105 
 
 where promises have been retracted ; for in- 
 stance, when it is pledged to a man who sub- 
 sequently turns out to be an altogether differ- 
 ent personage from what he seemed to be at 
 first." 
 
 " I beg of you, Comte, to speak plainer ; I 
 do not understand you." 
 
 "I dislike the idea of accusing a rival, but 
 you must certainly understand what I have 
 reference to from the hints I let fall at our 
 last meeting. If you had M. Paul d'Aspre- 
 mont out of the way, would you accept me 
 for a son-in-law ? " 
 
 " As far as I am concerned I would be de- 
 lighted ; but it is not at all likely that Miss 
 Ward would like any such substitution. She 
 is head over ears in love with this Paul ; it is 
 partly my fault, as I encouraged the lad 
 before I got wind of these stories I beg 
 your pardon, Comte, but I am hardly ac- 
 countable for my words this morning." 
 
 " Then you really wish your niece to die ? " 
 demanded d'Altavilla, seriously. 
 
 " Thunder and lightning ! my niece die ! " 
 exclaimen the Commodore, springing from 
 his chair and hurling aside the morocco- 
 covered tube of the houka. " Is she then 
 dangerously ill ? " 
 
 " Don't alarm yourself, milord ; Miss Alicia 
 may live, and live very long at that."
 
 106 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 " Bravo ! that's the way I like to hear you 
 talk ; you almost took my breath away you 
 fairly struck me amidships." 
 
 " But on one condition," added the Comte 
 d'Altavilla ; " and that is, that she never 
 again lays eyes on M. Paul d'Aspremont." 
 
 " Ah ! the subject of the fascino is again 
 cropping out ! Unfortunately, Miss Ward 
 does not believe in it." 
 
 " Listen to me," continued the Comte, not 
 at all dismayed by the old Commodore's want 
 of sympathy. " When I first met Miss Alicia 
 at the ball given by the Prince of Syracuse, 
 and I conceived this ardent passion for her, 
 I was smitten by the healthy, robust appear- 
 ance of your niece. Her beauty was fairly 
 dazzling, and it eclipsed that of other Eng- 
 lish, Russian, and Italian belles. To the 
 British air of distinction was added the noble 
 grace of the ancient goddesses ; pardon this 
 mythology on the part of a descendant of a 
 Greek colony." 
 
 " She was indeed superb ! Miss Edwina 
 O'Herty, Lady Eleanor Lilly, Miss Jane 
 Strangford, and the Princess Ve"ra Fe"dorowna 
 Bariatinski were so envious that they almost 
 had an attack of jaundice," the Commodore 
 approvingly remarked. 
 
 " And have you not noticed that her former 
 beauty has been replaced by a jaded, worn-
 
 JETTATURA. 107 
 
 out appearance, that her features have lost 
 some of their remarkable symmetry, and that 
 the veins of her hand are plainly visible 
 through her clear white skin, while her voice 
 has a strange though, melodious vibration ? 
 The terrestrial appearance has been replaced 
 by an angelic being. Miss Alicia is rapidly 
 assuming that beautiful, though ethereal ap- 
 pearance I do not fancy in worldly beings." 
 
 What the Comte said agreed exactly with 
 the Commodore's secret impressions, and he 
 remained as if in a dream for some little time. 
 
 " All this is quite true ; and although I 
 frequently try to pretend that it is a mere 
 freak of my imagination, I cannot dispute the 
 truth of your assertion." 
 
 " Pardon me," interrupted the Comte, " but 
 did you remark any of these symptoms pre- 
 vious to M. d'Aspremont's arrival in Eng- 
 land ? " 
 
 " Never ! she was the heartiest and gay- 
 est lass in the three kingdoms." 
 
 " M. d'Aspremont's presence therefore tal- 
 lies with the periodical attacks which have 
 so affected Miss Ward's health. I do not 
 ask you to place faith in the quaint supersti- 
 tion of our country, but you will certainly 
 agree that these strange facts are deserving 
 of your attention " 
 
 " But Alicia her illness may result from
 
 108 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 natural causes after all," said the Commo- 
 dore, partly convinced by d'Altavilla's rea- 
 soning, although his English pride struggled 
 against the popular Neapolitan belief. 
 
 " Miss Ward is not ill ; she is being poi- 
 soned by M. d'Aspremont's glance, which, if 
 it does not possess the fascino of the jetta- 
 tore, is at all events fatal." 
 
 "What can I do? She loves Paul; she 
 laughs at the superstition of the fascino, and 
 claims that one can not give such an excuse 
 to a man of honor for refusal." 
 
 " I have no right to occupy myself with 
 your niece's affairs ; I am neither her brother, 
 her cousin, nor her affianced husband ; but, 
 if I obtain your permission, I will make a 
 desperate effort to save her from this fatal 
 influence. Oh ! do not be alarmed ; I will 
 do nothing rash ; although I am quite young, 
 I am old enough to realize the injustice of 
 causing a scandal where a young lady is con- 
 cerned ; but, I beg of you, don't question me 
 as to the plan I propose to pursue that is 
 my secret. I trust, however, you have suffi- 
 cient confidence in my honor to believe that 
 I will act as discreetly and honorably as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " Then you love my niece very much ? " 
 asked Sir Joshua. 
 
 " Yes, then, I love her, though I have no
 
 JETTATURA. 109 
 
 hope ; but kindly grant me the right to act 
 as I see fit in this affair." 
 
 " You are a terrible man, Comte. Very 
 well ! you have my permission to do as you 
 see fit. Try to save Alicia that is all I ask 
 you." 
 
 The Comte bowed politely, and, entering 
 his carriage, he directed the coachman to 
 drive to the Hotel de Rome. 
 
 Paul, with his elbows on the table, was 
 plunged in deep thought ; he had seen the 
 drop of blood discolor Alicia's handkerchief, 
 and was convinced that he alone was to 
 blame. He reproached himself with his mur- 
 derous love ; he blamed himself for accept- 
 ing the devotion of this beautiful young girl 
 who was determined to die for him, and he 
 asked himself by what superhuman sacrifice 
 he could repay this sublime abnegation. 
 
 Paddy interrupted him in his revery by 
 presenting the Comte d'Akavilla's card. 
 
 " The Comte d'Altavilla ! what brings him 
 here?" questioned Paul, taken completely by 
 surprise at this unexpected visit. " Show 
 him in." 
 
 When the Neapolitan appeared on the 
 threshold of the door, M. d'Aspremont had 
 already assumed the mask of indifference 
 under which men of the world conceal their 
 impressions.
 
 1 10 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 With marked politeness, he pointed to an 
 arm-chair, while he seated himself on a lounge 
 and waited patiently, with his eyes fixed on 
 the visitor, for the latter to begin. 
 
 "Monsieur," began the Comte as he played 
 with the charms on his watch-chain, " what 
 I have to say is so strange, so out of place, 
 and so unbecoming that you have the right 
 to throw me out of the window. I trust, 
 however, you will spare me this brutal treat- 
 ment, as I am prepared to render you repara- 
 tion when and where you please." 
 
 " I am listening, monsieur, and accept the 
 offer you make me in case your conversation 
 displeases me," replied Paul, without moving 
 a muscle of his face. 
 
 " You are a jettatore ! " 
 
 At these words, a greenish tinge spread o'er 
 Paul's countenance, a red aureole encircled 
 his eyes ; his eyebrows drew closer together, 
 the furrow in his forehead grew larger, while 
 his eyes darted forth flashes of lightning ; he 
 raised himself partly in his chair, tearing the 
 lining away in his nervous grasp. The spec- 
 tacle was so terrible that d'Altavilla, brave 
 man though he was, seized one of the little 
 coral branches on his chain and instinctively 
 brought the sharp point to bear upon his 
 vis-ci-vis. 
 
 By a superhuman effort, M. d'Aspremont
 
 JETTATURA. Ill 
 
 regained his self-possession and re- 
 marked : 
 
 " You were right, monsieur ; you are en- 
 titled to the reward you spoke of for such an 
 insult ; but I will bide my time to obtain a 
 more suitable reparation." 
 
 " Believe me," responded the Comte, " I 
 would not have permitted myself to offer to 
 a gentleman such an insult, which can only 
 be wiped out in blood, unless I had a serious 
 reason for so doing. I love Miss Alicia 
 Ward." 
 
 " What matters this to me ? " 
 
 " As you say, it matters very little to you, 
 for she loves you; but I, Don Felipe d'Alta- 
 villa, forbid you to call upon Miss Ward 
 again." 
 
 " I have no orders to receive from you." 
 
 " I know it," replied the Neapolitan ; 
 " And I certainly do not expect that you will 
 obey me." 
 
 " Then what other motive has prompted 
 you to speak thus?" asked Paul. 
 
 " I am convinced that the fascino by which 
 you have involuntarily charmed Miss Ward 
 has resulted most unfortunately for her. It is 
 an absurd idea, a prejudice worthy of the 
 dark ages I will not discuss this with you. 
 In spite of yourself your eyes have directed 
 themselves upon Miss Ward, and you are kill-
 
 1 1 2 ROMA N TIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 ing her with your fatal glance. There is no 
 other way to avoid this sad catastrophe than 
 by" seeking a quarrel. If we had lived in the 
 sixteenth century I would have ordered my 
 tenants to strangle you in the maintains, but 
 these customs are now out of date. At first 
 I thought seriously of requesting you to re- 
 turn to France ; but that was too simple ; 
 you would have laughed at a rival who would 
 have thus coolly asked you to go away, leaving 
 him alone with your fiancee, on the ground 
 that you were a jettatore." 
 
 While the Comte d'Altavilla was speaking, 
 Paul d'Aspremont was a victim of the most 
 violent emotions. Was it really possible that 
 he, a Christian, was in the devil's clutches, and 
 that the light of Hell shone from his eyes ? 
 That he planted the seeds of destruction 
 along his path, and that his love for the dear- 
 est and purest woman on earth would event- 
 ually cause her death ! For a moment his 
 reason tottered, and his brain throbbed as if 
 it would burst his cranium. 
 
 " Upon your honor, Comte, do you believe 
 what you say to be true ? " exclaimed d'Aspre- 
 mont, after a short silence which the Neapol- 
 itan respected. 
 
 " Upon my honor, such is my belief." 
 
 " Oh, then it is true ! " muttered Paul to 
 himself. I am therefore an assassin, a demon,
 
 JETTATURA. "3 
 
 a vampire ! I am killing this sweet creature, 
 breaking the old Commodore's heart !" and he 
 was on the point of promising the Comte that 
 he would not attempt to see Alicia again ; 
 but pride and jealousy asserted themselves 
 and froze the words on his lips. 
 
 " Comte, I hereby warn you that I will call 
 on Miss Ward the moment you have taken 
 your departure." 
 
 " I will not seize you by the collar to pre- 
 vent your going ; however, I will be delighted 
 to meet you to-morrow morning, at six o'clock, 
 in the ruins of Pompeii, near the thermae, if 
 you have no objection. What weapon do 
 you prefer ? you are the offended party the 
 sword, sabre, or pistol ? " 
 
 " We will fight with knives and blindfolded, 
 separated by a handkerchief the ends of which 
 we will hold in our left hands. We must 
 equalize the chances I am a jettatore ; I 
 could kill you with a glance, monsieur le 
 Comte ! " 
 
 And Paul d'Aspremont, bursting into a 
 harsh laugh, opened the door and disappeared. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ALICIA had taken up her quarters in one 
 of the rooms on the ground floor of the villa, 
 the walls of which were frescoed according to
 
 I 14 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 the style prevalent in Italy, where very little 
 wall-paper is used. Manilla mats covered the 
 floor ; on a table, over which a piece of Turk- 
 ish carpet was thrown, lay the poetical works 
 of Coleridge, Shelley, Tennyson, and Long- 
 fellow ; a mirror, set in an antique frame, and 
 a few cane-bottomed chairs completed the 
 furniture of the room. Window-shades of 
 Chinese bamboo, on which were designed 
 dragons, snakes, and all kinds of quaint birds, 
 gave a soft light to the apartment. 
 
 The young girl, who was far from well, was 
 reclining on a narrow lounge near the win- 
 dow; two or three Morocco cushions supported 
 her ; a Venetian cover was thrown over her 
 feet, and thus prepared, she could receive 
 Paul without in the least offending the rules 
 of English etiquette. 
 
 The book she had been reading had slipped 
 from her hand ; her eyes wandered aimlessly 
 beneath her long, silken lashes and seemed 
 to be gazing into another world ; she experi- 
 enced that lassitude which always follows the 
 fever, and was engaged in chewing the leaves 
 of an orange-tree which stretched its fragrant 
 branches, covered with blossoms, through the 
 open window. Is there not a painting of 
 Venus chewing rose-leaves ? What a charm- 
 ing companion a modern artist could have 
 painted to this old Venetian picture, repre-
 
 JETTATURA. 1 15 
 
 seating Alicia munching the orange-blos- 
 soms! 
 
 She was thinking of M. d'Aspremont, and 
 she wondered whether she would live to see 
 the day when she would be his wife ; not 
 that she dreaded the fatal influence of the 
 fascino, but she felt herself giving way to 
 strange presentiments : that very night she 
 had a dream, and she had not yet recovered 
 from its effects. 
 
 In her dream, she fancied herself lying in 
 bed awake, her eyes riveted on the open door 
 of her room, where she momentarily expected 
 some one to appear. After two or three min- 
 utes of anxious expectation a white and sylph- 
 like form made its appearance, enveloped 
 in a white cloud, gradually becoming more 
 distinct as it approached the bed. 
 
 The apparition was clothed in a dress of 
 white muslin, the folds of which trailed on 
 the ground ; long tresses of black hair fell 
 about the pale, white face, while two little 
 red spots were plainly visible on her cheeks. 
 In her hand the apparition held a flower, a 
 tea-rose, the petals of which, as they fell on 
 the floor, resembled so many tears. 
 
 Alicia did not know her mother, who had 
 died a year after her birth ; but she had 
 frequently stood in silent contemplation be- 
 fore a faded miniature of Nancy Ward, and
 
 1 1 6 ROMANTIC LIBRAE Y. 
 
 from the resemblance she realized that it was 
 her mother who stood before her now : the 
 white dress, the black hair, the white cheeks 
 tinted with pink, even the tea-rose were repro- 
 duced as she had seen them in the portrait 
 only it was the miniature enlarged and devel- 
 oped to life-size, an animated, moving picture 
 as one usually beholds in a dream. 
 
 A feeling of tenderness mingled with fear 
 seized Alicia. She wanted to stretch her arms 
 out to the phantom, but she was unable to 
 move them, heavy as marble, from the pillow 
 on which they were resting. She attempted 
 to speak, but her tongue refused to articu- 
 late. 
 
 Nancy, after having placed the tea-rose on 
 the table, kneeled beside the bed and laid her 
 head on Alicia's breast, listening to the res- 
 piration of the lungs and counting the heart- 
 beats. The cold touch of the apparition gave 
 the young girl, alarmed by this silent auscul- 
 tation, the sensation of a piece of ice. 
 
 The apparition rose, and casting a loving 
 passionate glance at the young girl, began to 
 count the leaves of the rose, most of which 
 had fallen out, then whispered : " There is 
 only one more one more." 
 
 A heavy pall arose between the sleeper and 
 the vision, and it disappeared in the darkness 
 as Alicia dropped off to sleep.
 
 JETTATURA. 117 
 
 Had her mother's spirit come to warn her ? 
 What significance was attached to the mys- 
 terious words, " There is only one more one 
 more," as whispered by the apparition ? Was 
 this pale, drooping rose the symbol of her 
 life ? This strange dream, with its horrible 
 yet charming details, this beautiful spectre 
 draped in muslin which counted the petals of 
 the faded flower, filled the young girl's breast 
 with fear, a cloud of sadness gathered about 
 her lovely forehead, and strange thoughts 
 occupied her mind. 
 
 This orange-branch which shook out its 
 blossoms in profusion about her had some- 
 thing mournful about it as well. Were the lit- 
 tle white stars therefore not destined to glisten 
 on her bridal veil ? With a movement of 
 horror, Alicia withdrew the flower she was 
 biting from her lips the blossom was already 
 discolored and faded. . . . 
 
 The time for M. d'Aspremont's expected 
 visit drew near. Miss Ward struggled bravely 
 against the feeling that oppressed her ; she 
 passed her hand through her hair and 
 readjusted the folds of her scarf, while she 
 picked up the fallen book in order to appear 
 engaged when the visitor should make his 
 appearance. 
 
 Paul arrived at last, and Miss Ward wel- 
 comed him with a forced laugh, as she did not
 
 1 1 8 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 wish to alarm him for fear he would accuse 
 himself as being the cause of her illness. 
 The scene he had just had with the Comte 
 d'Altavilla gave Paul a savage and irritated 
 appearance, which caused Vice to make the 
 cabalistic sign, but Alicia's loving smile soon 
 dispelled the clouds which had gathered 
 about his brow. 
 
 " I hope you are not seriously ill, Alicia," 
 he said as he seated himself beside her." 
 
 " Oh, it is nothing, I assure you ; I am a 
 little tired, that is all : the sirocco paid us a 
 visit yesterday, and that African wind is 
 always too much for me. Just you wait until 
 we get back to Lincolnshire and you shall 
 see how well I am ! Now that I have re- 
 covered my strength, I will take my turn at 
 the oars as we take our daily row on the 
 lake ! " 
 
 As she said this she could not restrain a 
 convulsive cough. 
 
 M. d'Aspremont turned pale and lowered 
 his eyes. 
 
 A long silence ensued. Alicia was the 
 first to speak. 
 
 " I have never given you anything, Paul," 
 she said as she removed a plain gold band 
 from her wasted finger ; " take this ring and 
 wear it in memory of me ; it will fit you, as 
 your hand is no larger than a woman's.
 
 JETTATURA. 119 
 
 Good-bye ! I don't feel well and I would 
 like to sleep a little. Come and see me to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Paul withdrew with a heavy heart ; the 
 efforts made by Alicia to conceal her suffer- 
 ing were useless ; he loved Miss Ward to 
 distraction, and yet he was killing her. Was 
 not this ring she had just given him, a pledge 
 that they would meet in the next world ? 
 
 He walked up and down the beach like a 
 madman, dreaming of flight. He contem- 
 plated entering a Trappist convent, there to 
 await his death seated on his coffin, without 
 ever raising the cowl of his frock. It seemed 
 as if he was cowardly and ungrateful, not to 
 sacrifice his love, and to cease this abuse of 
 Alicia's heroism : for she knew everything, she 
 was aware that he was a jettatore, as the Comte 
 d'Altavilla had already proclaimed him to be, 
 and, seized by an angelic desire to do good, 
 she did not spurn his love ! 
 
 " Yes," said he, " this Neapolitan, this hand- 
 some comte she scorns, really loves her. His 
 passion is nobler than mine : to save Alicia, 
 he has not feared to approach me in order to 
 provoke me me, a jettatore, that is to say, 
 in his opinion, a being to be dreaded as much 
 as the devil himself. While speaking to me, 
 he toyed with the charms on his watch-chain, 
 and the eyes of this celebrated duelist, who
 
 120 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 has killed three men in his time, lowered 
 themselves before mine ! " 
 
 On reaching the Hotel de Rome, Paul wrote 
 a number of letters, and then made his will, 
 in which he bequeathed to Miss Alicia Ward 
 all his worldly possessions, with the exception 
 of a legacy for Paddy. 
 
 Then he opened the oak chest in which he 
 kept his weapons ; it was separated into little 
 compartments in which were placed swords, 
 pistols, and hunting-knives. He selected two 
 Corsican stilettos, of equal size, after due 
 deliberation. 
 
 They were long, two-edged blades of finely- 
 tempered Damascus steel, curious and ter- 
 rible weapons in the hands of desperate men. 
 Paul also selected three silk scarfs of equal 
 length. 
 
 He then notified Scazzigo to be in readi- 
 ness to drive him into the country early in the 
 morning. 
 
 " Oh ! " he exclaimed, throwing himself 
 upon his bed, " may God will it that this com- 
 bat proves fatal to me ! For if I have the 
 good fortune to be killed Alicia will live ! "
 
 JETTATURA. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 POMPEII, the dead city, does not wake up 
 at daybreak like the living cities, and although 
 she has partly thrown aside the mantle of 
 cinders which had covered her during so 
 many centuries, she still sleeps on her funeral 
 pyre long after the sun has risen in the 
 heavens. 
 
 The tourists of all nations, who visit the 
 city of the dead during the day, are still 
 soundly sleeping in their beds, all worn out 
 with the exertions of their excursions, and as 
 the sun rises over the gigantic tomb it does 
 not light up a single human entrance. The 
 lizards, alone, wriggle their tails as they glide 
 along the walls or over disjointed mosaics, 
 without stopping to read the cave canem in- 
 scribed on the doors of the deserted houses. 
 These are the inhabitants who have suc- 
 ceeded the ancient citizens, and it seems as 
 if Pompeii had been exhumed solely for their 
 benefit. 
 
 It is a strange sight to behold in the dim 
 light of morning the skeleton of this city, 
 which was destroyed in the midst of its plea- 
 sures, its work, and its civilization. One 
 momentarily expects to see the proprietors of
 
 122 ROMANTIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 these deserted houses appear in the doorway 
 attired in Greek or Roman costume, and the 
 chariots, of which the tracks are plainly dis- 
 cernible on the flag-stones, to move ; the tip- 
 plers enter the thermopoles, where the marks 
 of the cups are still imprinted on the marble 
 counter. One walks as in a dream through 
 the past ; the bill of the spectacle in red let- 
 ters is posted on the walls only the spectacle 
 has taken place more than seventeen centuries 
 ago ! In the uncertain light of the morning, 
 the figures of the dancing girls, painted on 
 the walls, seem to wave their crotalums as 
 they raise the thin drapery with the tips of 
 their toes, believing, no doubt, that the torch 
 bearers would light up the triclinium for an 
 orgie ; the Venuses, the Satyrs, and the 
 heroic or grotesque figures, animated by a 
 ray of light, apparently replaced the dispersed 
 inhabitants, as they gave an almost realistic 
 appearance to the deserted city. The colored 
 shadows flicker on the walls, and for sev- 
 eral minutes the mind willingly lends itself to 
 this ancient phantasmagoria. But that morn- 
 ing, to the great surprise of the lizards, the 
 usual matinal serenity of Pompeii was dis- 
 turbed by a strange visitor : a carriage drove 
 up to the former main entrance of the city, 
 and Paul, alighting, directed his steps towards 
 the rendezvous on foot.
 
 JETTATURA. 123 
 
 He was so deeply absorbed, however, that 
 he did not heed this city of fallen grandeur. 
 Was it the thought of the impending combat 
 which preoccupied him thus ? Not at all. 
 He was not even thinking of that ; his 
 thoughts were far away, In his mind he re- 
 called his first meeting with Miss Ward in 
 Richmond ; she was dressed in white, and 
 had a bunch of jasmine blossoms in her hair. 
 How young, how beautiful and sprightly she 
 had seemed to him then ! 
 
 The ancient baths are at the end of the 
 Consular quarter, near the residence of 
 Diomedes and Mammia's sepulchre ; M. 
 d'Aspremont had no difficulty in finding them. 
 It was here that the women of Pompeii used 
 to come after the bath to dry their beautiful 
 bodies, readjust their head-dresses, and re- 
 sume their tunics and their stereotyped smiles 
 in the polished brass mirrors of the period. 
 Quite another scene was to be enacted in the 
 thermae, and blood would stain the marble 
 mosaics where perfumed waters once were 
 wont to flow. 
 
 A few moments later Comte d'Altavilla ap- 
 peared. He carried a pistol case in his hand, 
 and two swords under his arm. He did not 
 believe the conditions proposed by M. d'As- 
 premont to be serious ; he looked upon them 
 purely as a bit of mephistophelean sarcasm.
 
 124 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 "What do you intend doing with these 
 pistols and swords, Comte ? " questioned Paul. 
 "J thought we had fully agreed on the wea- 
 pons we are to use ? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly ; but I thought it quite pos- 
 sible that you would change your mind. No 
 one has ever fought such a duel as you pro- 
 propose." 
 
 " Even were we fully equal in skill, I 
 would have an advantage over you," replied 
 Paul with a bitter smile ; " and I do not 
 wish to abuse this advantage. Here are a 
 couple of Corsican stilettos ; pray examine 
 them they are of equal weight and length 
 and here a couple of silk scarfs with which to 
 blindfold ourselves. See, they are very thick, 
 and my glance will hardly pierce the material." 
 
 The Comte d'Altavilla nodded his head 
 approvingly. 
 
 " We have no witnesses," continued Paul, 
 " and one of us must never leave this vault 
 alive. Let us each write a note, attesting the 
 loyalty of the duel ; the victor will pin it on 
 the dead man's breast." 
 
 " A wise precaution, "answered the Neapoli- 
 tan with a smile, as he traced a few lines on 
 a page of Paul's memorandum book, after 
 which the latter went through the same for- 
 mality. 
 
 This accomplished, the two adversaries,
 
 JETTATURA. 125 
 
 flinging aside their coats, proceeded to blind- 
 fold themselves, and, arming themselves with 
 their stilettos, they each took a firm hold on 
 the silk scarf. 
 
 " Are you ready ? " asked M. d'Aspremont 
 of the Comte d'Altavilla. 
 
 " Yes," replied the Neapolitan, who was per- 
 fectly composed. 
 
 Don Felipe d'Altavilla's bravery was not to 
 be questioned; all he feared was the jettatura, 
 and this blind combat, from which other men 
 would have recoiled in horror, did not give 
 him the slightest fear. He simply staked his 
 life at head or tails, without being compelled 
 to undergo the torture of having his foe's 
 fatal glance directed upon him. 
 
 The duellists nourished their stilettos, and 
 the scarf which linked them together was 
 strained to its utmost tension. By an instinct- 
 ive movement, both Paul and the Comte had 
 thrown their bodies backward, the only atti- 
 tude possible in such a duel ; their arms 
 circled through the empty air, and that 
 was all. 
 
 This blind struggle, where each had a pre- 
 sentiment of death without seeing it coming, 
 was indeed terrible. Silently and furiously 
 the two foes retreated, sprang forward and 
 retreated again, at times almost upsetting one 
 another in the darkness, as they struck out
 
 126 ROMA NT 1C LIBRAR Y, 
 
 again and again with their stilettos without 
 injuring each other. 
 
 At one moment, d'Altavilla felt the point of 
 his stiletto striking against something ; he 
 halted, supposing that he killed his rival, and 
 waited for the sound of his falling body ; 
 but he had only struck the wall ! 
 
 " By Heaven ! I thought I had run you 
 through," he exclaimed, as he recovered his 
 guard. 
 
 " Do not speak," said Paul, " your voice 
 guides me." 
 
 And the combat recommenced. 
 
 Suddenly the rivals felt themselves detached 
 from one another. A blow of Paul's stiletto 
 had severed the scarf. 
 
 " A truce ! " exclaimed the Neapolitan ; 
 " the scarf has parted ! " 
 
 " What matters that ? Let us continue," 
 replied Paul. 
 
 A painful silence followed. Like honor- 
 able men that they were, neither M. d'Aspre- 
 mont nor the Comte wished to take advan- 
 tage of the sound of the voice caused by this 
 brief exchange of words, to precipitate the 
 attack. They took a few paces to one side 
 in order to throw each other off the track, 
 then they retraced their steps and began 
 hunting for each other in the darkness. 
 
 Paul displaced a little stone with his foot ;
 
 JETTATURA. 1*7 
 
 this slight noise revealed to the Neapolitan 
 the direction his foe was taking. Raising 
 himself on his tiptoes in order to obtain more 
 momentum, Altavilla bounded forward with 
 the fury of a tiger, and brought up against 
 M. d'Aspremont's stiletto. 
 
 Paul touched the point of his weapon it 
 was wet unsteady steps resounded on the 
 flag-stones ; a heavy sigh was heard, followed 
 by the noise of a falling body. 
 
 Terrified beyond measure, Paul tore the 
 handkerchief from his eyes, and beheld the 
 Comte d'Altavilla, pale and motionless, 
 stretched out on his back, his shirt stained 
 with his life-blood. 
 
 The handsome Neapolitan was dead ! 
 
 M. d'Aspremont placed the note d'Altavilla 
 had written, attesting the loyalty of the com- 
 bat, on his breast, and left the thermae with a 
 heavy heart, while his face was even whiter 
 than that of the dead nobleman who was lying 
 there on the cold marble slabs. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 TOWARDS two o'clock in the afternoon, 
 a number of English tourists visited the 
 ruins of Pompeii ; the party, which was 
 composed of the father, mother, three daugh-
 
 128 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 ters, two little boys and a cousin, had al- 
 ready cast a careless look about the ruins, 
 characteristic of the British ennui, almost 
 without halting to admire the grandeur of 
 the amphitheatre, and of the theatres, so curi- 
 ously juxtaposed ; of the military quarters, 
 chalked with caricatures by the guards during 
 their leisure moments ; the forum, the temples 
 of Venus and Jupiter, the basilica and the 
 Pantheon. They silently studied their Mur- 
 rays, while the cicerone eloquently described 
 the ruins, and they scarcely condescended to 
 notice the broken columns, the fragments of 
 statues, the mosaics, the frescoes, and the 
 inscriptions. 
 
 They finally reached the ancient baths, 
 discovered in 1824, as the guide saw fit to 
 remark. " Here were the vapor baths, there 
 the boiler in which the water was heated, and, 
 further on, the drying room"; these details 
 given in the Neapolitan patois, mixed with a 
 few sentences in broken English, evidently 
 did not interest the visitors, for they were 
 going to take their departure, when suddenly 
 Miss Ethelwina, the eldest of the daughters, 
 a charming blonde with freckled face, started 
 back, partly through fear and partly through 
 modesty, as she cried out : " A man ! " 
 
 " It is no doubt some workman employed by 
 the government to unearth the ruins, who is
 
 JETTATURA. 129 
 
 taking his afternoon siesta, so don't be alarmed, 
 my lady," said the guide, as he applied the 
 tip of his boot to the inanimate body stretched 
 out at full length on the ground. " Hola ! I 
 say there, wake up, you lazy clown, and permit 
 their graces to pass." 
 
 But the sleeper did not stir. 
 
 " The man is not asleep he is dead," said 
 one of the sons who was in advance of the 
 party. 
 
 The cicerone stooped down, but he started 
 back in horror as he exclaimed : 
 
 " The man has been murdered ! " 
 
 " It is positively shocking that one is com- 
 pelled to look upon such ghastly objects ; 
 Ethelwina, Kitty, Bessie, stand aside," re- 
 marked Mrs. Bracebridge ; " it is not proper 
 for young ladies to look at such a disgust- 
 ing sight. Haven't they any police in this 
 country ? The coroner should have removed 
 the body long ago." 
 
 " Ah ! a paper ! " laconically remarked the 
 cousin, a long-legged, awkward fellow after 
 the style of the Laird of Dumbiedike in " The 
 Edinburgh Jail." 
 
 " So it is," added the guide, as he picked 
 up the paper on d'Altavilla's breast ; " and 
 there is writing on it, too." 
 
 "Then read it," exclaimed the tourists as 
 with one voice, their curiosity being aroused.
 
 1 30 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 " It is useless to seek or annoy any one on 
 account of my death. If this note is found 
 on. my wound I shall have fallen in a fair 
 duel. 
 
 (Signed) FELIPE, Comte d'Altavilla. 
 
 " He was a gentleman after all ; what a 
 pity ! " sighed Mrs. Bracebridge, impressed 
 by the title. 
 
 " And such a handsome man," murmured 
 Miss Ethelwina, the young lady with the 
 freckles. 
 
 " Surely, you can't complain now," whis- 
 pered Bessie to Kitty ; " you are always 
 grumbling because we have had such an un- 
 interesting voyage ; we have not, it is true, 
 been stopped by brigands on the road from 
 Terracine to Fondi, but we have found a 
 young nobleman, pierced through the heart 
 by a blow from a stiletto in the ruins of 
 Pompeii and that ought to be romantic 
 enough, I'm sure. Some love affair is back 
 of this, no doubt, and we will have some- 
 thing startling to tell our friends on our return. 
 I will sketch the scene in my album, and you 
 will add a few mournful verses, a la Byron." 
 
 " I don't care," interrupted the guide, "it 
 was a fair blow he was struck square in the 
 heart ; there is no fault to be found." 
 
 Such was the funeral oration of the Comte 
 d'Altavilla.
 
 JETTATURA. 131 
 
 Some workmen, notified by the cicerone, 
 hurried off to warn the authorities, and the 
 body of the unfortunate Comte was carried 
 to his chateau near Salerno. 
 
 As to M. d'Aspremont, he had regained his 
 carriage, and, although his eyes were wide 
 open, he could not see he walked like a 
 somnambulist in his sleep. He was like an 
 animated statue. Although he was inspired 
 with religious horror at the sight of the dead 
 man, still he did not consider himself guilty. 
 Provoked by the Comte to fight, he had no 
 other course to pursue than to accept, and 
 yet he had only decided to fight in the hope 
 that he would be the victim. Gifted with a 
 fatal glance, he had insisted that both com- 
 batants should be blindfolded so that fate 
 alone should be responsible for the result. 
 He had not even struck the blow ; his enemy 
 had impaled himself upon his weapon ! He 
 bemoaned the death of the Comte d'Altavilla 
 precisely as he would have done had he not 
 been accountable for his death. " It is my 
 stiletto that killed him," he reasoned, " but if 
 I had looked at him in a ball-room one of 
 the chandeliers would have fallen on him 
 from the ceiling and would have crushed him 
 beneath its weight. I am as innocent as the 
 lightning, the avalanche, or the machineel 
 tree as unconscious, in fact, of the harm I
 
 1 3 2 ROMA NTIC LIBRAE Y. 
 
 occasion as any of these destructive powers 
 The lightning, however, is not aware that it 
 kills, while I, an intelligent creature, know 
 the fatal power I possess. It seems as if I 
 had no right to linger on this earth where I 
 cause so many misfortunes ! Would God 
 damn me forever if I committed suicide in 
 order to save my fellow-beings from destruc- 
 tion ? It seems as if this would be pardon- 
 able in the present case. But what if I 
 should be mistaken ? Then I could not even 
 look upon Alicia in the next world, where the 
 eyes of the souls are not accursed with the 
 fatal f ascino. This is a chance I don't propose 
 to run." 
 
 A sudden thought flashed through the mind 
 of the unfortunate jettatore and interrupted 
 his revery. His features seemed to grow 
 softer, and they relaxed their severity as they 
 assumed an expression of determination. He 
 had taken a final resolution. 
 
 " A curse be on my eyes, since they are 
 murderous ! but, before closing forever, sat- 
 urate yourselves with light, gaze on the sun, on 
 the blue sky, the immense sea, and the chains 
 of mountains : contemplate the green trees, 
 the infinite horizon, the columns of the palace, 
 the fisherman's hut ; the far-off islands of 
 the gulf, the white sails which brighten the 
 horizon, and Vesuvius with her smoking
 
 JETTATURA. 133 
 
 crater ; gaze upon all these sights, and 
 remember them well, for you will never 
 feast upon this beautiful vision again ; study 
 every form, and every color treat yourselves 
 to this gorgeous spectacle, intoxicate your- 
 selves with the beauties of the earth for it is 
 for the last time ! Go on ! enjoy yourselves ! 
 The curtain will soon fall between you and 
 the picturesque scenery and the beauties of 
 the universe ! " 
 
 At this moment the carriage was following 
 the beach ; the beautiful bay was looking at 
 its best, and the sky seemed to have been 
 sculptured out of a single block of sapphire. 
 
 Paul asked the driver to stop, and, getting 
 out of the carriage, he seated himself on a 
 rock, from whence he gazed long and earnestly 
 at the surroundings as if he wished to im- 
 press them upon his memory. His eyes 
 bathed themselves in the light, and the sun, 
 shining brighter than ever, seemed to impart 
 some of its brilliancy to them ! There would 
 be no dawn to the night which was to follow ! 
 
 Tearing himself away from this silent con- 
 templation, M. d'Aspremont entered the car- 
 riage and directed Scazziga to drive to the 
 white villa near Sorrento. 
 
 He found Alicia reclining on the lounge, 
 exactly as he had left her the day before. 
 Paul seated himself opposite to her, but this
 
 134 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 time he did not lower his eyes as he had been 
 accustomed to do since he first acquired the 
 knowledge of his fatal power. 
 
 Alicia's beauty was perfect even in her 
 agony ; the woman had almost disappeared, 
 making way for the angelic being. Her skin 
 was transparent, ethereal, and luminous ; one 
 could see her soul shining through the frail 
 form like the light of an alabaster lamp. 
 Her eyes had the tender blue of the sky in 
 them, and scintillated like two bright stars ; 
 life scarcely placed its red signature upon the 
 carnation of her lips. 
 
 A divine smile illumininated her mouth, 
 like a ray of the sun about a rose, as her 
 affianced husband turned his eyes lovingly 
 upon her. She imagined that Paul had at 
 last dismissed the thought that he was ac- 
 cursed from his mind, and she once more 
 beheld the Paul of former days. She held 
 out her pale, wan hand, which he eagerly 
 clasped in his own. 
 
 " So you are no longer afraid of me ? " she 
 said with a sweet smile, as Paul continued to 
 gaze upon her. 
 
 " Oh ! let me look at you," answered M. 
 d'Aspremont in a strange tone, kneeling be- 
 side the sofa ; " let my eyes feast themselves 
 upon your intoxicating beauty ! " and he con- 
 templated Alicia's raven-black hair, her white
 
 JETTATURA. 135 
 
 brow, which was as pure as Grecian marble, 
 her dark blue eyes, her finely shaped nose, 
 her mouth with its two rows of pearls, and 
 her swan-like neck ; he seemed to make a 
 note of every feature and every detail, like a 
 painter who desires to retain a picture in his 
 mind. 
 
 Alicia was fascinated by his burning glance, 
 and experienced a painful, almost fatal sen- 
 sation the dying embers of her life were 
 fanned into a momentary flame ; she turned 
 red and white by turns, and from ice she sud- 
 denly turned to fire. Another moment, and 
 her soul would have left her forever. 
 
 She placed her hands over Paul's eyes, but 
 the young man's glance darted through her 
 transparent fingers like a flash of lightning. 
 
 " Now that I have seen her again, what 
 care I for my eyesight ? Her portrait is im- 
 printed upon my heart," Paul muttered as he 
 took his departure. 
 
 That night, after having gazed at the set- 
 ting sun the last sunset he would ever be- 
 hold M. d'Aspremont rang for a chafing- 
 dish and some charcoal. 
 
 " I wonder if he is going to asphyxiate him- 
 self?" grumbled Virgilio Falsacappa as he 
 handed Paddy the coal and the chafing-dish 
 his master had sent for. " It's about the best 
 thing the cursed jettatore could do ! "
 
 I3 6 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 But such was not d'Aspremont's intention, 
 for he opened the window and, lighting the 
 coals, plunged the blade of a stiletto into the 
 flame. 
 
 The fine blade, embedded as it was in this 
 incandescent heat, was soon red-hot. Paul 
 leaned on the mantelpiece and gazed at him- 
 self in the mirror. 
 
 " Farewell, accursed features ! this horrible 
 mask will soon disappear forever ! I am 
 going to plunge you into the darkness of the 
 night, and before long I shall have forgotten 
 your fatal charm as completely as though it 
 had never existed. It will be useless to cry 
 out, ' Hubert, Hubert, my poor eyes ! ' for 
 that will not alter my determination. Now 
 then, to work ! " and casting one last, sweep- 
 ing glance in the mirror he approached the 
 lighted fire. 
 
 He blew his breath upon the embers, and 
 took the dagger by the handle, the blade of 
 which emitted little white sparks. 
 
 At this decisive moment, although fully 
 determined to carry his plan into execution, 
 M. d'Aspremont felt his heart sinking within 
 him, while a cold sweat bathed his temples ; 
 but with a superhuman effort he recovered 
 his self-possession, and passed the hot blade 
 before his eyes. 
 
 A sharp, tearing, lacerating pain almost
 
 JETTATURA. 137 
 
 caused him to cry out ; it seemed as if two 
 drops of molten lead had been dropped in his 
 eyes and, burning through his eyeballs, had 
 forced their way to the back of his head ; the 
 dagger fell from his open hand and made a 
 deep burn in the carpet. 
 
 A thick, compact darkness, compared with 
 which the darkest night was as daylight, en- 
 veloped him in its black mantle ; he turned 
 his head in the direction of the mantelpiece, 
 where the candles were still burning brightly, 
 but an impenetrable, dense obscurity sur- 
 rounded him on every side. The sacrifice 
 was consummated ! 
 
 " And now, sweet and noble creature," 
 murmured Paul, " I can become your hus- 
 band without the fear of becoming your 
 assassin as well. You will no longer wilt 
 away under the magic fascino of my fatal 
 glance you will regain your health and 
 former beauty. Alas ! I can no longer see 
 you, it is true, but your sainted image is for- 
 ever imprinted on my heart ; and although I 
 will see you only in my fancy, still your sweet 
 voice will reach my ear. Sometimes, too, you 
 will let your hand linger in mine to assure 
 me of your presence, you will condescend to 
 lead your poor, blind husband when he falters 
 in the darkness of an eternal night ; you will 
 read poetry and you will describe all the cele-
 
 138 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 brated paintings and statues to him. Through 
 the sound of your loving voice, you will re- 
 store to him the lost treasures of the world ; 
 you will be his one thought, his only dream ; 
 deprived of the sunlight and the enjoyment 
 of the beauties of this earth, his soul will fly 
 towards you for consolation ! 
 
 " I do not regret my sacrifice, since you are 
 saved and, after all, what have I lost ? The 
 monotonous spectacle of the different seasons, 
 the sight of more or less picturesque places 
 where the hundred different acts of the com- 
 edy of life are daily enacted for the edifi- 
 cation of millions of souls. The earth, the 
 sky, the sea, the mountains, the trees, the 
 flowers a vulgar show, a repetition of the 
 same old things day after day ! When one 
 is beloved, one possesses the real sun, the 
 brightness of which is never dimmed by pass- 
 ing clouds ! " 
 
 So spoke the unfortunate Paul d'Aspremont, 
 feverish and delirious with pain and exalta- 
 tion. 
 
 His suffering gradually diminished ; then 
 he dropped off into that heavy sleep which is 
 the brother of death, and which, like death, 
 brings consolation. 
 
 He was not aroused by the light of day 
 which streamed through the open curtains of 
 his room. Henceforth, midnight and noon
 
 JETTATURA. 139 
 
 would be alike to him ; but the clocks chiming 
 the Angelus rumbled in his ears, until, becom- 
 ing gradually more distinct, they awoke him 
 from his drowsiness. 
 
 He attempted to move his eyelids, and 
 before he knew it the pain suddenly reminded 
 him of his sacrifice. His eyes encountered 
 nothing but darkness, and it seemed as if he 
 had been buried alive ; but he soon recovered 
 his composure. For was it not destined that 
 his life should be ever thus ? Henceforth, 
 the light of the morning and the darkness of 
 the night would be alike to him. 
 
 He groped around in the darkness for the 
 bell-rope, and Paddy made his appearance 
 in answer to this summons. 
 
 " I foolishly slept with the window open," 
 said Paul, in order to avoid an explanation, 
 " and I believe I have caught the gutta ser- 
 ena, but it will soon pass away, I suppose. 
 Kindly lead me to the basin and fill a tumbler 
 with fresh water forthwith." 
 
 Paddy, with the discretion so becoming in 
 an English valet, made no comment, and, 
 after executing his master's commands, re- 
 tired. 
 
 Left to himself, Paul dipped his handker- 
 chief in the cold water and applied it to his 
 eyes in order to cool the burn. 
 
 We will leave M. d'Aspremont, thus pain-
 
 14 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 fully occupied, while we will rejoin some of 
 the other personages who have figured in this 
 story. 
 
 The news of Comte d'Altavilla's strange 
 death spread like wildfire through the city and 
 was the subject of a thousand different conjec- 
 tures. The Comte's ability as a swordsman 
 was well known. D'Altaville had the repu- 
 tation of being one of the best fencers of the 
 Neapolitan school ; he had killed three men, 
 and he had seriously wounded five or six 
 more. The most celebrated duellists, there- 
 fore, took particular pains not to offend him. 
 Now, if one of these swaggerers had killed 
 d'Altavilla, he certainly would not have hesi- 
 tated to proclaim his prowess. And yet the 
 note found on his body diverted all thoughts 
 of murder. At first the handwriting was 
 questioned, but it was compared to some of 
 his letters by experts, who pronounced the 
 writing to be the same. Again, the handker- 
 chief tied about his head could in no way 
 be accounted for. Then, two stilettos were 
 found in the ruins near the body, while a 
 couple of swords and pistols were discovered 
 a little further off. 
 
 The news of his death finally reached 
 Vice's ears, and she lost no time in informing 
 Sir Joshua Ward. The Commodore suddenly 
 remembered his conversation with d'Altavilla,
 
 JETTATURA. 141 
 
 when the latter mysteriously hinted that he 
 had a plan by which Alicia could be saved. 
 In his imagination, he beheld the Comte and 
 M. d'Aspremont engaged in the deadly strug- 
 gle. As to Vice, she did not hesitate to at- 
 tribute the death of the handsome Neapolitan 
 to the fatal influence of the fascino. And yet, 
 Paul had paid his respects to Miss Ward at 
 the usual hour, and there was nothing in his 
 appearance to betray the part he had acted 
 in the terrible drama ; on the contrary, he 
 appeared even more gay than usual. 
 
 M. d'Aspremont did not call that day, and 
 the news of the Comte's death was carefully 
 withheld from Alicia. 
 
 Paul did not wish to present himself with 
 his red eyes, as he proposed to attribute his 
 sudden blindness to another cause. The 
 following day, however, his eyes having 
 ceased to pain him, he asked Paddy to ac- 
 company him for a drive. 
 
 The carriage stopped, as usual, before the 
 terrace. The blind man kicked open the 
 door with his foot, and was soon treading the 
 well-known path. Vice had not hastened to 
 meet him as was her wont when the bell, set 
 in motion by the opening and closing of the 
 door, notified her of the approach of a visitor ; 
 none of the joyful sounds which formerly 
 burst upon his ear reached him now, but
 
 142 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 instead a frightful, death-like silence reigned 
 supreme. This silence, which would have 
 oppressed even a man who could see, struck 
 apprehension and nameless fear to the heart 
 of the poor, groping Paul. 
 
 The branches which he could no longer 
 see appeared anxious to retain him ; they 
 stretched forth, like so many arms, attempt- 
 ing to bar his passage. The laurel-bushes 
 got in his way, the rose-bushes fastened them- 
 selves on his clothes, the vines seized him 
 about the legs, while the birds seemed to 
 twitter, " Why do you come here, poor un- 
 fortunate ? Do not attempt to force your way 
 through the obstructions nature has placed 
 in your path go away ! " But Paul did not 
 heed the warning, and, tormented by a terri- 
 ble presentiment, he hurled himself against the 
 opposing shrubbery heedless of the laurel 
 and the rose bushes he destroyed in his mad 
 onslaught while he continued to force his 
 way toward the villa. 
 
 Torn and scratched by the overhanging 
 branches, he finally reached the end of the 
 arbor. A gust of fresh air struck him in the 
 face, and he continued his way with his 
 hands stretched out before him. 
 
 He found the wall, and finally the door, 
 after a difficult search. 
 
 He entered ; no kindly voice gave him a
 
 JETTATURA. 143 
 
 welcome. There was no sound to guide him. 
 For a moment he stood, hesitating, in the 
 doorway. An odor of ether, of wax in com- 
 bustion, and the aromatic perfumes of a death- 
 chamber reached the intruder's nostrils as 
 he stood there, hesitating and trembling on 
 the threshold ; a frightful thought suddenly 
 crossed his mind, and he entered the room. 
 
 He advanced a few steps then he struck 
 against something which fell on the floor with 
 a loud noise. Stooping down, he took it 
 up : by its touch he recognized it to be a 
 long metallic candlestick, similar to the ones 
 used in churches. 
 
 With throbbing heart, he continued his way 
 through the darkness. He seemed to hear a 
 voice offering up a prayer to Heaven ; he 
 took another step forward, and his hands 
 encountered the foot-board of a bed ; he 
 leaned over, and his fingers touched a motion- 
 less body at first ; then a wreath of roses and 
 a face as pure and cold as marble. 
 
 It was Alicia laid out in her funeral 
 robes. 
 
 " Dead ! " shrieked Paul, as he realized 
 the truth at last ; " dead ! and it is I who 
 have killed her ! " 
 
 The Commodore, frozen with horror, had 
 seen this spectre, with its sightless eyes, as it 
 staggered across the room, and finally came
 
 1 44 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 to a standstill before the bed in which his 
 
 niece was lying : he had understood. 
 
 The grandeur of this useless sacrifice 
 
 caused the tears to rush to the old man's 
 
 eyes. 
 
 Paul fell on his knees beside the bed, 
 while he covered Alicia's cold hand with 
 burning, passionate kisses ; his body shook 
 with emotion. His sorrow even moved the 
 ferocious Vice, who stood respectfully by the 
 side of the bed, watching her mistress's last 
 sleep. 
 
 After he had bid his love farewell, M. 
 d'Aspremont rose and, advancing towards the 
 door, went out. His eyes, which were wide 
 open, exposing the red scar caused by the 
 burns, presented an unnatural expression ; 
 although he was blind, one would have believed 
 he had the gift of sight. He crossed the ter- 
 race, without halting once, and walked out 
 into the country, sometimes disturbing a stone 
 with his foot, and sometimes stopping as if 
 to catch a distant sound but he continued 
 on his way. 
 
 The noise made by the waves as they washed 
 ashore grew more distinct, while the sea-gulls 
 uttered plaintive cries which sounded mourn- 
 fully indeed as the sighing of the wind and 
 the rush of the waters burst upon his ear. 
 
 Paul was soon standing on an overhanging
 
 JETTATURA. MS 
 
 rock. The rolling of the waves, and the 
 salted rain which beat upon his face should 
 have warned him of the danger he was run- 
 ning ; but he heeded not the warning ; a 
 strange smile flitted across his pale lips, and 
 he continued on his way, although he knew 
 the gulf was beneath his feet. 
 
 Suddenly, he lost his balance and fell ; a 
 gigantic wave seized him in its embrace and 
 carried him backwards in its mad rush. 
 
 Then the storm burst forth in all its fury ; 
 the waves beat upon the beach in rapid suc- 
 cession, like a phalanx of cavalry storming a 
 fortress, while they cast the spray high into 
 the air ; the black clouds, tinged with fire, 
 emittted sulphurous vapors ; the crater of 
 Vesuvius grew brighter, and a variegated 
 cloud hovered over the volcano. The barks 
 anchored off the shore collided together with 
 a mournful sound, while their cables, strained 
 to their utmost tension, creaked ominously. 
 Then the rain began to fall in torrents, cut- 
 ting the faces of the people like so much fine 
 glass it seemed as if the chaos wished to 
 conquer nature and once more confound the 
 elements. 
 
 M. Paul d'Aspremont's body was never 
 found, although the Commodore offered a 
 large reward for its recovery. 
 
 An ebony coffin, with silver handles, lined
 
 146 ROMANTTC LIBRARY. 
 
 with quilted satin in fact, just such a coffin 
 as Clarissa Harlowe recommended to the care 
 of " the carpenter," was taken on board a 
 yacht by the Commodore and carried to 
 England, where it was placed in the family 
 vault in Lincolnshire. It contained all that 
 was earthly of Miss Alicia Ward, who was 
 beautiful even in death. 
 
 A remarkable change has taken place in 
 the Commodore. His superb embonpoint has 
 completely disappeared. He no longer takes 
 Jamaica rum in his tea, eats but little, and has 
 very little to say ; and the contrast between 
 his white whiskers and his sunburnt face no 
 longer exists the Commodore has forever 
 lost his ruddy color.
 
 THE BLACK PEARL 
 
 147
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 
 
 BY VICTORIEN SARDOU. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WHEN it rains in Amsterdam, it pours ; and 
 when the thunder takes a hand in the perform- 
 ance things are pretty lively ; this is what my 
 friend Balthazar Van der Lys was saying to 
 himself one summer night, as he ran along the 
 Amstel on his way home to escape the storm. 
 Unfortunately, the wind of the Zuiderzee blew 
 faster than he could run. A frightful gust 
 tore along the quay, unhinging hundreds of 
 shutters and twisting scores of signs and lamp 
 posts. At the same moment, a number of 
 towels and handkerchiefs which had been 
 hung out to dry were blown pell-mell into the 
 canal, followed by Balthazar's hat, and it is 
 the greatest wonder in the world that he was 
 not treated to a bath himself. Then there 
 was another flash of lightning, a deafening 
 roar of thunder, and the rain came down in 
 149
 
 1 5 o ROMA N TIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 torrents anew, literally wetting our poor friend 
 to the skin, and causing him to redouble his 
 speed. 
 
 On reaching the Orphelinat Straat he rushed 
 under the awning of a shop to seek refuge from 
 the rain ; in his hurry he did not take time look 
 where he was going, and the next moment he 
 found himself fairly in the arms of another 
 man, and the two went rolling over and over 
 together. The person thus disturbed was 
 seated at the time in an arm-chair ; this per- 
 son was no other than our mutual friend, 
 Cornelius Pump, who was undoubtedly one of 
 the most noted savants of the age. 
 
 " Cornelius ! what the mischief were you do- 
 ing in that chair ? " asked Balthazar, picking 
 himself up. 
 
 " Look out ! " exclaimed Cornelius, " or 
 you will break the string of my kite ! " 
 
 Balthazar turned around, believing that his 
 friend was joking ; but, to his surprise, he 
 saw Cornelius busily occupied in winding up 
 the string of a gigantic kite, which was float- 
 ing above the canal at a tremendous height, 
 and which apparently was struggling fiercely 
 against all effort made to pull it in. Corne- 
 lius pulled away with all his might in one 
 direction, while the kite pulled away in an- 
 other. The monstrous combination of paper 
 and sticks was ornamented with a tremen-
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. IS 1 
 
 dous tail, which was decorated with innumer- 
 able pieces of paper. 
 
 " A curious idea ! " remarked Balthazar, 
 " to fly a kite in such a storm." 
 
 " I am not doing so for fun, you fool," 
 answered Cornelius with a smile ; " I wish to 
 verify the presence of nitric acid in yonder 
 clouds, which are charged with electricity. 
 In proof of which, behold ! " and with a des- 
 perate effort the man of science succeeded in 
 pulling down the kite, and pointed with pride 
 to the bits of paper which had been burned a 
 dark red. 
 
 " Oh, bah ! " replied Balthazar in that tone 
 of voice so common to those who do not 
 understand anything of these little freaks 
 of science. " A nice time to experiment, 
 upon my word ! " 
 
 " The best time in the world, my friend," 
 simply answered Cornelius. " And what an 
 observatory ! you can see for yourself ! there 
 is not an obstruction in the way ! a glorious 
 horizon ! ten lightning-rods in sight and all 
 on fire ! I have been keeping my weather 
 eye open for this storm and I am delighted 
 that it has put in an appearance at last ! " 
 
 A violent thunder-clap shook the ground 
 like an earthquake. 
 
 " Go on ! grumble away as much as you 
 please," muttered Cornelius. " I have dis-
 
 152 ROMANTIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 covered your secret and will tell to it the 
 world." 
 
 " And what is there so interesting in all this, 
 anyway ? " asked Balthazar, who, owing to 
 his drenching, was in anything but a good 
 humor. 
 
 " You poor fool," replied Cornelius, with a 
 smile of pity ; " now tell me, what is 
 that ? " 
 
 "Why, a flash of lightning, of course ! " 
 
 " Naturally ! but what is the nature of that 
 flash ? " 
 
 " Why, I always supposed that all flashes 
 were alike." 
 
 " That shows how much you know ! " an- 
 swered Cornelius, in a tone of disgust. " Now, 
 there are several classes of lightning ; For 
 instance, lightning of the first class is gener- 
 ally in the form of a luminous furrow and is 
 very crooked and forked, affecting a zig-zag 
 movement, and of a white or purple color ; 
 then, there is the lightning of the second class, 
 an extended sheet of flame, usually red, and 
 which embraces the entire horizon in circum- 
 ference ; and finally lightning of the third class, 
 which is invariably in the form of a rebound- 
 ing, rolling, spherical body ; the question is 
 whether it is really globular in shape or 
 merely an optical illusion ? This is exactly 
 the problem I have been trying to solve ! I
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 153 
 
 suppose you will say that these globes of fire 
 have been sufficiently observed by Howard, 
 Schiibler, Kamtz " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know anything at all about 
 such rot, so I won't venture an opinion. The 
 rain is coming down again and I want to go 
 home." 
 
 " Wait a moment," calmly replied Corne- 
 lius ; " and as soon as I have seen a spherical 
 or globular flash I will " 
 
 " I haven't time to wait ; besides, I would 
 be a fool when I only have to go a hundred 
 feet to reach my door. If you want a good 
 fire, a good supper, a good bed and a good 
 pipe, you will be welcome ; and if you want to 
 look at a globe, why, the globe of my lamp is 
 at your disposal. I can say no more." 
 
 " Stop a moment, my flash will be along 
 presently." 
 
 Balthazar, whose patience was now well- 
 nigh exhausted, was preparing to take his de- 
 parture, when suddenly the sky was lighted 
 up by a bright flash, while the thunder burst 
 with a loud report a short distance away. The 
 shock was so violent that it almost knocked 
 Balthazar over. 
 
 " That was a spherical globe, and no mis- 
 take ! " joyfully exclaimed Cornelius ; " I 
 have made a wonderful discovery : let's go 
 to supper ! " Balthazar rubbed his eyes and
 
 154 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 felt of his limbs to assure himself that he was 
 
 still in the land of the living. 
 
 " The lightning struck near my house ! " 
 " Not at all," replied Cornelius, " it was in 
 
 the direction of the Hebrew quarter." 
 
 Balthazar did not stop to hear any more, 
 
 but started off on a dead run ; Cornelius 
 
 picked up his little bits of paper and was 
 
 soon following at his heels, in spite of the 
 
 drenching rain. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN hour later the two friends, having en- 
 joyed a bountiful supper, seated themselves 
 in comfortable chairs, and, between the whiffs 
 of their meerschaums, laughed at the storm 
 which was still raging furiously outside. 
 
 " This is what I call real enjoyment," re- 
 marked Cornelius. " A good bottle of white 
 curacao, a good fire, good tobacco, and a 
 congenial friend to talk to ; am I not right, 
 Christina ? " 
 
 Christina came and went ; she was here, 
 there and everywhere at the same time, remov- 
 ing plates and placing fresh glasses and a 
 huge earthen jug on the table. At the men- 
 tion of her name by Cornelius she blushed a 
 fiery red, but said nothing in reply.
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 155 
 
 Christina ( it is high time that we tell you) 
 was a young girl who had been raised out of 
 charity, in the house of our friend Balthazar. 
 
 Shortly after the death of her husband, 
 Madame Van der Lys, Balthazar's mother, 
 felt some one tugging at her dress as she was 
 kneeling at her devotions one Sunday morn- 
 ing ; fearing that some one was trying to pick 
 her pocket she grasped the hand of the sup- 
 posed offender. The hand belonged to a 
 little girl, and was as cute and small as it is 
 possible for a hand to be. The good woman 
 was deeply moved at this exhibition of crime 
 in one so young, and her first thought was 
 to let the little one go ; but she finally decided 
 to give the waif a home, like the dear, good 
 woman that she was. Then she led little 
 Christina out of the church and made her 
 accompany her home, the child crying all the 
 while with fear that her aunt would whip her. 
 Madame Van der Lys told her not to be afraid, 
 and succeeded at last in obtaining the informa- 
 tion that the child's parents belonged to that 
 class of idlers who spend their time in running 
 about fairs and kermesses ; that the child had 
 been broken in at an early age to all the tricks 
 adopted by strolling mountebanks; that the 
 father had been killed while performing a 
 dangerous feat on the horizontal bar ; that 
 the mother died in want and misery ; and
 
 156 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 finally that the aunt was an old hag who used 
 to beat her black and blue, and who was in- 
 structing her in all the branches of crime. I 
 do not know whether you have ever met 
 Madame Van der Lys, but she was as good a 
 woman as her son is good a man. She there- 
 fore decided to keep the child, whom the aunt 
 never called to reclaim. She brought her up 
 well and had her educated by an excellent 
 woman. It was not long before the little 
 waif knew how to spell, read, and write, and 
 she soon became a model of good manners 
 and refinement. Then, when the old lady 
 shuffled off this mortal coil she had the satis- 
 faction of leaving behind her, in addition to 
 Gudule,the cook, a lass of fifteen who was as 
 bright as a florin, and who would never permit 
 her master's fire to go out for want of proper 
 attention. In addition to all these good 
 qualities, she was polite, refined, clever and 
 pretty : at least such was the opinion of our 
 friend Cornelius, who had discovered in her 
 eyes a look not at all unlike a flash of light- 
 ning of the third class. But, a truce to this ! 
 If I gossip any more I will be divulging family 
 secrets ! 
 
 I will add, however, that Christina always 
 gave Cornelius a hearty welcome because he 
 brought her interesting books. The young 
 savant made a greater fuss over this little
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 157 
 
 housekeeper than over all the painted beau- 
 ties of the town. But it seemed as if the 
 storm had paralyzed the young girl's tongue. 
 She had declined to take her seat at the table, 
 and, under the pretext of waiting on the two 
 friends, she came and went, scarcely listening 
 to what they had to say, replying only in 
 monosyllables, and making the sign of the 
 cross every time there was a flash of lightning. 
 Shortly after their supper, Balthazar turned 
 round to ask her a question but she was no 
 longer there, having retired to her room. He 
 rose from his chair, and approaching the door 
 of her room, listened attentively ; but as 
 all was silent he was evidently convinced that 
 the young girl was already fast asleep, for he 
 returned to his place and sat down beside 
 Cornelius who was busily engaged filling his 
 pipe. 
 
 " What's wrong with Christina to-night ?" 
 he asked, pointing to her room. 
 
 "Oh, it's the storm," replied Balthazar; 
 " women are so timid ! " 
 
 " If it were otherwise, we would be deprived 
 of the pleasure of protecting them as we would 
 children especially Christina, who is any- 
 thing but strong. I really can't look at her 
 without crying ; she is so frail, so delicate ! " 
 
 " Oh, ho, master Cornelius ! " exclaimed 
 Balthazar, with a knowing smile ; " you are
 
 1 5 8 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 almost as enthusiastic over Christina as you 
 were over the lightning a little while ago ! " 
 
 Cornelius blushed to the very roots of his 
 hair as he replied : "Oh, it's not the same 
 kind of enthusiasm, however ! " 
 
 " I suppose not ! " remarked Balthazar with 
 a hearty laugh. Then taking Cornelius by 
 the hand and looking him square in the face, 
 he added : " Come now, you don't imagine 
 that I can't see what is going on ? You don't 
 only amuse yourself at flying your kite over 
 the Amstel, overgrown boy that you are, but 
 you also play at racquets with Christina, and 
 your two hearts answer the place of shuttle- 
 cocks." 
 
 " What, you suppose that " muttered the 
 savant, evidently confused. 
 
 " For over three months I have known that 
 it was not merely to see my beautiful counte- 
 nance that you have called here twice a day 
 at noon, on your way to the zoological garden, 
 and at four on your way home." 
 
 " But this is the shortest way," ventured 
 Cornelius. 
 
 " Yes, I know to the heart ! " 
 
 " But" 
 
 " Come, now, let us reason : Christina is 
 unlike most girls of her age ; she has a wise 
 head and a loving heart, I assure you ; she 
 is certainly clever enough to admire and ap-
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 159 
 
 preciate such a talented person as Mijnheer 
 Cornelius Pump, who thinks nothing of lend- 
 ing her his rare books. You squeeze her 
 hands you are solicitous for her health. You 
 read her a regular lecture on chemistry 
 every time you see a spot on her dress, on 
 natural history whenever you see a pot of 
 flowers, and on anatomy whenever you see the 
 cat ! She listens to what you have to say with 
 open ears, and a look of attention which is 
 really charming ; and yet you would pretend 
 that love is a minor consideration in all this, 
 especially when the man of science is only 
 twenty-five and his pupil just eighteen ? " 
 
 " Well, then, I do love her, since you will 
 have it so ! " answered Cornelius, with a look 
 of defiance in his eyes. " So kindly tell me 
 what you propose to do about it ! " 
 
 " That's for you to say" 
 
 " Oh, I intend to make her my wife ! " 
 
 " Then, why the mischief don't you tell her 
 so!" 
 
 " That's precisely what I intend to do." 
 
 Then embrace me ! " exclaimed Balthazar, 
 " and drink to the health of Cupid, for I, too, 
 am going to get married ! " 
 
 " I congratulate you, my boy ; and who is 
 the fortunate one ? " 
 
 " And I am going to marry Mademoiselle 
 Suzanne Van Miellis, the daughter of the
 
 1 60 ROMA N TIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 rich banker," continued Balthazar, all in one 
 breath. 
 
 Cornelius gave a low whistle, which, trans- 
 lated, means : the devil ! 
 
 Balthazar continued : 
 
 " And just think of it I have loved her for 
 over six years ! I never wanted to pop the 
 question because I was afraid her father 
 would tell me that it was his money and not 
 his daughter that I was after. But my oppor- 
 tunity came at last. Her father died a short 
 time ago, leaving her his sole heiress : she is 
 one of the wealthiest girls in the town." 
 
 " The wealthiest by far," gravely inter- 
 rupted Cornelius. 
 
 " One day as we were walking together by 
 the river she stopped for a moment and look- 
 ing into my eyes, she said : ' Now, my friend, 
 I don't want you to bear me any ill-feeling for 
 what I am going to say ; but, since the death 
 of my father, and coming into my inheritance, 
 I assure you that I am most unhappy. I can 
 no longer distinguish between those who love 
 me for my riches and those who love me for 
 myself ; there are so many who pretend to 
 adore me that I am suspicious of them all ; 
 and I would rather throw my fortune into the 
 Amstel than wed a man who would aspire to 
 my hand through mercenary motives ! 
 
 " ' Ah, mademoiselle," I sighed ; you can
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 161 
 
 understand that I was not over-anxious to be 
 mistaken for one of these fortune hunters. 
 
 " ' Oh, my dear friend,' she exclaimed; ' I 
 know that you are not that kind of a man. 
 Now I am going to tell you my ideal of a hus- 
 band. I would never accept the love of a man 
 who had not cared for me previous to the 
 death of my father. Ah ! I would indeed be 
 confident of that man's love, and I would re- 
 turn it to him a hundred-fold ! ' 
 
 " ' Then I am that man ! ' I cried out ; I 
 have loved you for over six long years, and 
 I never dared to tell you so, although you 
 must have noticed that I was slowly but 
 surely dying for the want of your affection ! ' 
 Then she looked down at the ground, and 
 whispered : ' Maybe I have, ' and she looked 
 at me as if trying to read the truth in my eyes. 
 It was easy to see that she wanted to believe 
 what I said, but was afraid to do so. 
 
 " ' Then you can prove the truth of your 
 assertion, ' she remarked, after a brief pause. 
 ' Do you remember the first time we met, you 
 gave me a bunch of flowers ? One of these 
 was in the shape of a little heart, with two 
 blue wings on each side. Well then ' ' I 
 know what you are going to say. Then as we 
 were looking at this little flower together, our 
 heads almost touched and your curls brushed 
 against my face ; as you perceived how close
 
 1 6 2 ROMA N TIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 we were to one another ; you suddenly drew 
 back, and the flower was detached from its 
 stem. I can still hear your little cry of dis- 
 appointment ringing in my ears. Then you 
 began to cry, and, as you were not looking I 
 picked up the little flower.' ' And you have 
 it ? ' she asked. ' Yes I have always kept it 
 as a souvenir of the happiest moment in my 
 existence. I will bring it with me the next 
 time I call. ' 
 
 " You should have seen the look of joy 
 which spread over Suzanne's countenance at 
 that moment ! She held out her pretty hand 
 which I eagerly grasped and carried to my 
 lips. ' Ah my friend,' said she, ' this is all I 
 wanted to know, and I am indeed happy ! 
 If you picked up that little flower it was be- 
 cause you loved me already at that time, and 
 if you have preserved it, 'tis because you 
 love me still ! Bring it to-morrow ; it will be 
 the most welcome wedding gift you could 
 possibly give me ! ' 
 
 " Oh, my dear old Cornelius, judge of my 
 surprise, of my delight when I heard <hose 
 words ! I was tempted to do something rash; 
 I was wild with joy. Suddenly her mother 
 happened along. I threw my arms around the 
 old lady's neck and kissed her on both cheeks 
 this cooled me off. Then I grabbed my 
 hat and took to my heels, intending to return
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 163 
 
 with the flower this very night. But this con- 
 founded storm has upset all my plans, and I 
 will have to postpone my visit until to-morrow. 
 There, you have the whole story of my court- 
 ship in a nutshell ! " 
 
 " May heaven be praised ! " exclaimed 
 Cornelius as he threw his arms around his 
 friend. " Two weddings at the same time ! 
 Long live Madame Balthazar ! Long live 
 Madame Cornelius ! Here's to the little Bal- 
 thazars and the little Corneliuses ! " 
 
 " Will you be quiet ! " laughingly remarked 
 Balthazar, placing his hand over his friend's 
 mouth in order to silence him. " You will 
 wake up Christina." 
 
 " Oh, I won't say another word, I promise 
 you. And now show me your celebrated 
 flower with its blue wings." 
 
 " I have it locked up in a little steel casket, 
 which is hidden away with a lot f jewelry 
 in my desk. I have had it framed in a little 
 locket, surrounded with gold and black 
 pearls. I was looking at it only this morn- 
 ing ; it is charming. You can judge for 
 yourself." 
 
 So saying, he took up the lamp, and, taking 
 a huge bunch of keys from his pocket, he 
 opened the door of his study. He had hardly 
 crossed the threshold when Cornelius heard 
 him cry out in surprise. He rose to go to
 
 1 64 ROMA NT 1C LIBRAR Y. 
 
 his assistance, when Balthazar, pale as death, 
 reappeared in the entrance: 
 ' " My God ! Cornelius." 
 
 " What is it ? what is wrong ? " exclaimed 
 the man of science. 
 
 " Great heavens ! I am ruined ! Come 
 here ! Look ! " 
 
 And Balthazar raised his lamp so as to 
 light up the interior of his study. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WHAT Cornelius saw justified Balthazar's 
 exclamation of surprise. The floor was liter- 
 ally strewn with papers of all kinds, and this 
 profusion of documents clearly proved that 
 something extraordinary had occurred. A 
 large portfolio in which Balthazar kept all 
 his private papers was torn open, notwith- 
 standing that it had a steel lock, and was 
 thrown carelessly on the floor, the papers it 
 had contained being scattered far and wide. 
 
 But this was nothing when compared with 
 that which was to follow. Balthazar now 
 rushed up to his secretaire. The lock had 
 been forced. The top of the desk had been 
 completely hacked to pieces, a great portion 
 being reduced to splinters. The nails were 
 twisted all out of shape, and the screws and
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 165 
 
 hinges had alike received rough usage. As 
 to the lid, it had been forced so as to permi*- 
 the introduction of a hand in the pigeon-holes 
 and private drawers. 
 
 But, strange to relate, most of the drawers 
 containing valuable papers had not been 
 touched by the thief, his attention evidently 
 having been entirely absorbed in the con- 
 tents of those which had contained gold and 
 silver. About fifteen hundred ducats, two 
 hundred florins and the little steel casket 
 filled with jewels, of which we have heard 
 Balthazar speak, were missing. This drawer 
 was completely empty ; everything had dis- 
 appeared, gold, silver, jewels, without leav- 
 ing a trace behind ; and Balthazar experi- 
 enced a still greater loss when, on picking 
 up the steel casket from the floor, he per- 
 ceived that the medallion had been taken 
 along with the rest ! 
 
 This discovery affected him more than the 
 loss of all his money. Rushing to the win- 
 dow, he threw it open and cried out at the 
 top of his voice : 
 
 " Help ! Help ! Stop thief ! " 
 
 All the population turned out, and, in ac- 
 cordance with the custom, would have an- 
 swered this call for aid with, " Fire ! Here 
 we come ! " had not the first cry attracted a 
 squad of policemen who were passing that
 
 1 66 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 way. They ran up to Balthazar's house, and 
 M. Tricamp, the sergeant, realizing that a 
 robbery had been committed, first cautioned 
 him to make less noise, and then demanded 
 that he and his men be admitted without 
 further delay. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE door opened noiselessly and M. Tri- 
 camp entered on tiptoe, followed by another 
 of his men, whom he left on guard in the 
 vestibule with orders not to permit any one 
 either to come in or go out. It was almost 
 twelve o'clock ; the neighbors were fast asleep, 
 and it was easy to see that Gudule, the deaf 
 cook, and Christina, fatigued by the emotions 
 caused by the storm, had heard nothing un- 
 usual, as both were sleeping the sleep of the 
 just. 
 
 " And now," said the sergeant, lowering his 
 voice ; " what is it all about ? " 
 
 Balthazar dragged him into the study and 
 pointed to the torn papers and broken secre"- 
 taire. 
 
 M. Tricamp was a little man, whose legs 
 were not big enough to support his unwieldy 
 form ; nevertheless, he was very sharp and 
 unusually active. He had one more little
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 167 
 
 peculiarity he was frightfully near-sighted, 
 which compelled him to look at what he was 
 examining at very short range. 
 
 He was evidently surprised, but it was part 
 of his stock in trade not to exhibit surprise 
 at anything. He therefore contented himself 
 with muttering : " Very good ! Very good ! " 
 and he cast a look of contentment around 
 the room. 
 
 " You see, Mijnheer, what has happened ' " 
 exclaimed Balthazar, with a voice choked with 
 emotion. 
 
 " Perfectly ! " replied M. Tricamp, with an 
 air of importance. " The secretaire has been 
 broken open, your portfolio has been tam- 
 pered with ! Very well, it is superb ! " 
 
 " Superb ! Why, what do you mean ?" 
 
 " They took all the money, I suppose ? " 
 continued the sergeant. 
 
 " Yes, all the money which was in my desk." 
 
 " Good ! " 
 
 " And the jewels, and my medallion ! " 
 
 " Bravo ! a case of premeditated robbery ! 
 Capital ! And you suspect no one ? " 
 
 " No one, Mijnheer." 
 
 " So much the .better. Then we will have 
 the pleasure of discovering the criminals." 
 
 Balthazar and Cornelius looked at each 
 other in surprise ; but M. Tricamp continued 
 in the same unconcerned manner :
 
 168 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 " Let us examine the door ! " 
 
 Balthazar pointed to the massive door of 
 the study, which was provided with an old- 
 fashioned brass lock, the likes of which are 
 only found in the Netherlands at the present 
 time. 
 
 Tricamp turned the key. Crick ! Crack ! 
 It was evident that the lock had not been 
 tampered with. 
 
 " And the window ? " asked the officer 
 handing Balthazar the key of the study. 
 
 " The window was closed," said Cornelius ; 
 " we opened it when we called for assistance. 
 Besides, Mijnheer, it has stout iron bars, and 
 no one could possibly pass through there." 
 
 M. Tricamp assured himself that such was 
 the case, and he remarked that not even a 
 child could effect an entrance through those 
 bars. Then he closed and bolted the window 
 and turned his attention towards the fire- 
 place. 
 
 Balthazar followed all of his movements 
 without uttering a word. 
 
 M. Tricamp leaned over and examined the 
 interior of the fireplace most minutely ; but 
 here again nothing but failure rewarded him 
 for his trouble. A thick wall had been built 
 there recently, allowing only enough room 
 for a small stove-pipe. 
 
 M. Tricamp did not question for a moment
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 169 
 
 whether this opening would permit the pas- 
 sage of a human being, for it seemed alto- 
 gether too improbable, therefore, when he 
 drew himself up, he appeared to be anything 
 but pleased. 
 
 " Hum ! Hum ! " he muttered ; " the 
 devil," and he looked up at the ceiling, hav- 
 ing replaced his eye-glass with a pair of 
 spectacles. Then he took the lamp from 
 Balthazar and placed it on the secretaire, 
 removing the shade ; and this movement 
 suddenly revealed to him a clew which had 
 entirely escaped their attention until now. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN old knife, a gift from a friend in the 
 Dutch Indies, was driven into the wainscot- 
 ing, about three feet above the secretaire and 
 half-way between the floor and the ceiling. 
 
 Now, what was that old knife doing there ? 
 
 A few hours previous to this discovery it 
 was lying safe and snug in Balthazar's desk. 
 
 At the same moment Tricamp drew atten- 
 tion to the fact that the wire which was 
 attached to the bell was twisted and broken 
 and was fastened about the handle of she 
 knife. He sprang upon a chair, and from 
 there to the top of the desk, from whence he
 
 1 70 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 proceeded to examine this bit of fresh evi- 
 dence. 
 
 . Suddenly he gave a cry of triumph. He 
 only had to raise his hand between the knife 
 and the picture moulding to ascertain that a 
 large piece of wall paper had been cut out, 
 together with the wood and the plastering, 
 the whole being replaced with a care to defy 
 the closest inspection. 
 
 This discovery was so unexpected that the 
 young men could not withhold their admira- 
 tion at the sergeant's skill. M. Tricamp 
 remarked that the paper had been removed 
 with the greatest skill, thus denoting the 
 work of a professional thief. Raising himself 
 on tip-toe, he placed his hand through the 
 opening and assured himself that the paper 
 in the adjoining room had been tampered 
 with in precisely the same manner. 
 
 There was no longer any room for doubt ; 
 the thief had certainly entered the room 
 through this aperture. M. Tricamp de- 
 scended from his pedestal and proceeded to 
 describe the movements of the malefactors 
 from the moment of their arrival until their 
 departure, just as if he had witnessed the 
 whole performance. 
 
 "The manner in which that knife has been 
 planted in the wall plainly proves that it was 
 intended as a step to assist the thief in his
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 17* 
 
 descent. The wire was used as a sort of rope 
 by which he guided himself on his way back. 
 Now, doesn't this strike you as being rational 
 enough ?" 
 
 Balthazar and Cornelius listened to this 
 explanation with bated breath. But the 
 former was not the kind of man to enthuse 
 over a description of a theft, especially when 
 he was the loser by the operation. What he 
 wanted to know was where his medallion had 
 gone ; now that he knew how the thief had 
 entered, he was anxious to know how he had 
 gone out. 
 
 " Have patience," remarked M. Tricamp, 
 following up his clue with professional pride ; 
 "now that we know their movements, we 
 must assure ourselves as to their temper- 
 ament " 
 
 " What nonsense ! We haven't the time to 
 bother our heads about such rot ! " 
 
 " Pardon me,'' replied Tricamp, " but in 
 my estimation, this is very important. The 
 study of psychology in criminals is a more 
 important feature than all the quack exam- 
 inations formerly so popular with the police." 
 
 " But, Mijnheer, while you are discussing 
 the methods of the police the thief is running 
 away with my money." 
 
 " Well, let him run, we will catch him fast 
 enough ! " coldly replied M. Tricamp. " I
 
 1 7 2 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 claim that it is necessary to study the nature 
 of the game in order to run it down. Now, 
 .all robberies differ more or less ; and it is 
 rarely that murders are committed in the 
 same manner. For instance, two servant 
 girls were accused of stealing their mistress's 
 shawl. I discovered the criminal at the first 
 glance. The thief had the choice of two 
 cashmeres : one was blue and the other 
 white ; now, she stole the blue one. One of 
 the servants was a blonde and the other had 
 red hair. I was confident that the blonde 
 was guilty the red-headed girl would never 
 have selected the blue shawl on account of 
 the combination." 
 
 " Wonderful ! " remarked Cornelius. 
 
 " Then hurry up and tell me the name of 
 the thief, for my patience is well-nigh ex- 
 hausted." 
 
 " I can't do this at the start, but I claim 
 that this is the criminal's first robbery. You 
 will no doubt not credit this assertion as you 
 will probably say to yourself that it shows the 
 workmanship of an old hand ; but any child 
 could loosen a bit of dried-up wall-paper. I 
 will say nothing regarding your portfolio, or 
 your broken secretaire, for that plainly bears 
 the imprint of a novice's hand." 
 
 " Then you are sure it is the work of a 
 novice ? " interrupted Cornelius.
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 173 
 
 " Undoubtedly. I will add that he is a 
 clumsy greenhorn. An out-and-out thief 
 would never have left your room in such dis- 
 order ; he would take more pride in his work- 
 manship. Furthermore, the criminal is 
 neither very strong nor very tall, otherwise he 
 could have drawn himself up there without 
 the aid of that knife and bit of wire." 
 
 " But it must have required considerable 
 strength to demolish that desk in that fash- 
 ion." 
 
 " Not at all ; a child, or even a woman " 
 
 " A woman ?" exclaimed Balthazar. 
 
 "Since I first set my foot in this room, 
 such has been my impression." 
 
 Balthazar and Cornelius looked at one an- 
 other, in doubt as to whom he could possibly 
 suspect. 
 
 " Now then, to sum up : it is a young wo- 
 man ; she must be young or she would not 
 climb so well petite, since she needed a wire 
 to pull herself up with. Then, again, she 
 must be familiar with your habits, for she 
 took advantage of your absence to commit 
 the felony, and she went direct to the drawer 
 in which you kept your money, as she appar- 
 ently did not bother her head about the oth- 
 ers. In a word, if you have a young house- 
 keeper or servant you need look no further, 
 for she is the guilty one ! "
 
 174 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 "Christina ! " exclaimed the young men in 
 one breath. 
 
 " Ah ! So there is a Christina about the 
 premises ! " remarked M. Tricamp smilingly ; 
 " well, then, Christina is guilty ! " 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BOTH Cornelius and Balthazar were pale 
 as death. Christina ! Little Christina, so 
 good, so kind, so pretty, a thief nonsense ! 
 And then they remembered her origin and 
 the manner in which she was adopted. She 
 was only a Bohemian after all ! Balthazar 
 dropped into a chair as if he had been shot, 
 and Cornelius felt as if his heart had just 
 been seared with a red-hot iron. 
 
 " Will you kindly send for this person," 
 suddenly remarked M. Tricamp, awakening 
 them from their reverie. " Or, better still, 
 let us visit her room." 
 
 " Her room her room," faltered Baltha- 
 zar ; " why, there it is," and he pointed to the 
 adjoining apartment. 
 
 " And it took all this time for you to make 
 up your mind who had committed the theft ! " 
 said the sergeant with a sneer. 
 
 " But," ventured Cornelius, " she certainly 
 must have heard us."
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 1 75 
 
 Tricamp picked up the lamp and, pushing 
 open the door of the adjoining room, entered, 
 followed by the young men the room was 
 empty ! Simultaneously they exclaimed, 
 " She has escaped ! " 
 
 M. Tricamp felt under the mattress to see 
 whether he could find any of the stolen 
 property. " She has not even slept on the bed 
 to-night," he said, after carefully inspecting 
 the couch. 
 
 At the same moment they heard the sound 
 of struggling outside, and the officer who 
 had been left on guard downstairs entered 
 the room, pushing Christina before him. The 
 poor girl appeared more surprised than 
 afraid. 
 
 " This young woman was attempting to 
 escape, Mijnheer ; I arrested her just as she 
 was drawing the bolts of the back door," said 
 the officer. 
 
 Christina looked around her with such an 
 air of innocence that no one believed in her 
 guilt, excepting, of course, M. Tricamp. 
 
 "But do tell me what this all means?" 
 asked she of the officer who locked the door 
 after her. " Why don't you tell them who I 
 am," she continued, addressing Balthazar. 
 
 " Where have you been ? " he demanded. 
 
 " I have been upstairs with old Gudule, 
 who, you know, is afraid of the lightning. As
 
 1 76 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 I was very tired, I fell asleep in the arm-chair 
 in her room. When I awoke I looked out of 
 the window, and as the storm had ceased I 
 came downstairs with the intention of going 
 to bed ; but I first desired to assure myself 
 that you had bolted the door, and it was at 
 that moment that this gentleman placed his 
 hand on my shoulder and informed me that 
 I was under arrest. And, I assure you, he 
 has given me a good fright " 
 
 " You lie ! " coarsely interrupted M. Tri- 
 camp. " You were just going out when my 
 man arrested you ; and I will add that you 
 did not go to bed so as to avoid the trouble 
 of dressing when the moment arrived for you 
 to make your escape." 
 
 Christina looked at him in astonishment. 
 " Escape ? What escape ? " she asked. 
 
 " Ah ! " muttered M. Tricamp. " What 
 nerve, what deceit ! " 
 
 " Come here," said Balthazar, who knew 
 not what to believe, " and I will tell you what 
 it all means ! " 
 
 He took the young girl by the arm and 
 dragged her into the adjoining room. 
 
 " My God ! " exclaimed the young woman, 
 as she crossed the threshold and perceived 
 the scene of devastation for the first time ; 
 " who could have done this ? " 
 
 Her surprise seemed to be so sincere that
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 177 
 
 Balthazar hesitated for a moment, but M. 
 Tricamp was not so easily affected ; he 
 dragged Christina by the arm up to the secre- 
 taire and exclaimed : 
 
 " You did it ! " 
 
 " I ! " cried out Christina, who did not as 
 yet realize what it all meant. 
 
 She looked at Balthazar as if to read his 
 thoughts, then she cast a glance at the drawer 
 of the secretaire, and seeing that it was 
 empty, she realized at last the terrible mean- 
 ing of their accusation. With a heart-rend- 
 ing cry, she exclaimed : 
 
 " My God ! And you say I have done 
 this ! " 
 
 But no one had the courage to answer her ; 
 Christina advanced a step closer to Balthazar, 
 but he only lowered his eyes at her approach. 
 Suddenly she raised her hand to her heart, 
 as if she were suffocating she attempted to 
 speak she tried to pronounce two or three 
 words, but all she could say was : " A thief ! 
 They say I am a thief ! " and she fell back- 
 wards on the floor as if dead ! Cornelius 
 precipitated himself towards her and raised 
 her gently in his arms. 
 
 " No ! " he cried ; " no ! it is impossible ! 
 This child is innocent ! " 
 
 Then he carried the young girl into her 
 room and laid her on the bed. Balthazar
 
 1 78 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 followed him, and it was easy to see that he 
 was deeply affected. M. Tricamp, still smil- 
 ing, entered immediately after them, but one 
 of his officers motioned to him that he had 
 something to communicate to him. 
 
 " Mijnheer, we already have obtained some 
 information regarding this young woman." 
 
 " Well, and what do you know ? " 
 
 " The baker across the way says that a 
 little while before the storm he saw Made- 
 moiselle Christina at the window of the ground 
 floor. She slipped a package to a man who 
 was standing outside ; this man wore a long 
 cloak and a slouch hat " 
 
 " A package, eh ? " muttered M. Tricamp ; 
 " excellent ! Now, secure the witness and 
 keep a sharp watch outside. In the first 
 place, go and send the cook to me at once." 
 
 The officer withdrew, and M. Tricamp en- 
 tered Christina's room. 
 
 The young woman was stretched out on 
 the bed in a dead faint, and Cornelius was 
 rubbing her hands. Without stopping to 
 notice the condition of the girl, he proceeded 
 with his examination of the premises. He 
 started in with the bureau and overhauled all 
 the drawers. Then he approached Balthazar 
 with a smile of satisfaction on his face. 
 
 "After all, what proof is there that this 
 young girl is guilty?" asked the latter as
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. *79 
 
 he gazed tenderly upon the unconscious 
 woman. 
 
 " Why, this ! " answered M. Tricamp, as he 
 handed Balthazar one of the missing pearls. 
 
 " Where did you find this ? " 
 
 "There," and he pointed to the top drawer 
 of Christina's bureau. 
 
 Balthazar rushed up to the drawer and 
 began to overhaul all of the young girl's 
 effects, but his search did not result in his 
 finding any more of the stolen jewels. 
 
 At this moment Christina opened her eyes, 
 and looking around her as if to recall the 
 situation, burst into tears as she buried her 
 face in the pillow. 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " ejaculated M. Tricamp, " tears, 
 eh ? She is going to confess "; and as he 
 leaned over her, he added in his sweetest 
 voice : " Come, my child, return good for 
 evil and confess the truth. Confession is 
 good for the soul. After all, we are not all 
 perfect. Now, I suppose, you permitted 
 yourself to be led astray, or you allowed 
 yourself to succumb to a passion for finery. 
 You wanted to make yourself look pretty, eh, 
 my dear, to please some one you love ? " 
 
 "What an idea, Mijnheer," interrupted 
 Cornelius. 
 
 " Hush, young man ! I know what I am 
 talking about. This woman has an accom-
 
 1 80 ROMA N TIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 plice as sure as my name is Tricamp "; and 
 leaning over Christina, he continued : " Am 
 I not right, my dear ? " 
 
 "Oh, why don't you kill me, instead of 
 torturing me thus ! " cried Christina with a 
 fresh outburst of tears. 
 
 " This was so unexpected that M. Tricamp 
 started back in surprise. 
 
 " Kindly leave us alone with the girl, Mijn- 
 heer ; your presence irritates her," remarked 
 Balthazar ; " if she has anything to confess 
 she will do so to my friend and I." 
 
 M. Tricamp bowed himself out of the room. 
 
 " Oh, just as you please," he replied, " but 
 be very careful ; she is a clever minx." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CORNELIUS almost closed the door in the 
 sergeant's face ; then the two young men ap- 
 proached Christina, who had assumed a sitting 
 posture, and was staring before her into space. 
 
 " Come, my child," said Balthazar, as he 
 held out his hand ; " we are now alone ; you 
 are with friends, so you need not be afraid." 
 
 " I don't want to stay here ! I want to go 
 away ! Oh, let me let me go ! " 
 
 " No, Christina, you can not leave here 
 until you answer us," said Cornelius.
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 181 
 
 " Tell us the truth, I beg of you, Christi- 
 na," added Balthazar, " and I promise you 
 no harm will come to you I swear it on my 
 honor. I will forgive you, and no one will 
 ever know of this I swear it Christina, I 
 swear it before God ! don't you hear me, 
 my child ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " answered Christina, who did not 
 appear to be listening. " Oh, if I could only 
 cry if I could only cry ! " 
 
 Cornelius seized the young girl's burning 
 hands in his. " Christina, my child, God for- 
 gives us all, and we love you too much not to 
 pardon you. Listen to me, I beg you. Don't 
 you recognize me ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Christina, as her eyes filled 
 with tears. 
 
 " Well then, I love you, do you hear ? I 
 love you with all my heart ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said the young girl as she burst 
 into tears ; " and yet you believe that I am a 
 thief ! " 
 
 " No, no ! " hastily exclaimed Cornelius, 
 " I do not believe it, I do not believe it ! but, 
 my dear child, you must help me to justify you, 
 you must assist me to discover the criminal, 
 and to do this you must be frank and tell me 
 everything." 
 
 " Yes, you are good, you alone are kind to 
 me. You pity me and do not believe what
 
 1 82 ROMANTIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 they say ! they accuse me because I am a Bo- 
 hemian because I stole when I was a child. 
 And they call me a thief! a thief! They 
 call me a thief !! " 
 
 And she fell backwards on the bed, sob- 
 bing as if her heart would burst. 
 
 Balthazar could stand this no longer : he 
 fell upon his knees by the side of the bed, 
 and exclaimed in a voice of pity as if he him- 
 self was the accused instead of the accuser : 
 
 " Christina, my sister, my child, my daugh- 
 ter look at me ! I am on my knees before 
 you ! I ask your forgiveness for the wrong I 
 have done you. No one will say anything, 
 no one will do anything ; it is all over ! do 
 you hear ? I hope you do not wish to repay 
 all the kindness my mother and I have shown 
 you by making me suffer all the tortures of 
 the damned ? Well then, I beg you, to tell 
 me what has become of my little medallion 
 (I do not ask you where it is, you understand ? 
 I do not wish to know that, for I do not 
 suspect you). But if you do know where it 
 is, I beg of you to help me find it. I implore 
 you by the love you bore my mother, whom 
 you called your own, I implore you to find 
 it this is all I want. My future happiness 
 depends on the recovery of this jewel give 
 me back my medallion please give me back 
 my medallion."
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 183 
 
 " Oh ! " answered Christina in despair, 
 " I would give my life to be able to tell you 
 where it is ! " 
 
 " Christina ! " 
 
 " But I haven't got it ; I haven't got it ! " 
 she cried, wringing her hands. 
 
 Balthazar, exasperated, sprang to his feet : 
 " But, wretched woman " 
 
 Cornelius silenced him with a gesture, and 
 Christina raised her hands to her forehead. 
 
 " Ah ! " she said, as she burst into a loud 
 laugh, " when I am mad, this farce will be 
 ended, I suppose ? " 
 
 And, overcome with emotion, she fell back- 
 ward, hiding her face in the pillow as if de- 
 termined not to utter another word. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CORNELIUS dragged Balthazar out of the 
 room ; he staggered as though he had been 
 shot. In the other room they found M. Tri- 
 camp, who had not been wasting his time. 
 He had been cross-examining the old cook, 
 Gudule, who, most unceremoniously aroused 
 by one of the officers, was still half asleep. 
 
 " Come, come, my good woman," remarked 
 M. Tricamp, "control yourself, if you 
 please ! "
 
 1 84 ROMANTIC L1BRAR Y. 
 
 " Oh, my good master, my good master ! " 
 she exclaimed, as Balthazar entered the room 
 accompanied by Cornelius. " What's the 
 matter ; they dragged me out of bed, and 
 they are asking me all kinds of questions ! 
 For mercy's sake, tell me what it is all 
 about!" 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, my good woman," said 
 Balthazar kindly ; " you have nothing to do 
 with all this. But I have been robbed and 
 we are looking for the thief." 
 
 " You have been robbed ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " My God ! I have lived in this house for 
 over thirty years, and not as much as a pin 
 was ever stolen before ! Oh, Mijnheer, why 
 didn't they wait until I was dead before they 
 began their thieving ! " 
 
 " Come, come, don't give way like that, my 
 good woman," said M. Tricamp. 
 
 "You will have to speak a little louder, 
 Mijnheer, the woman is deaf," remarked Bal- 
 thazar. 
 
 " Now, I want to know whether you were 
 in the house when the robbery was com- 
 mitted ? " continued M. Tricamp, raising his 
 voice. 
 
 " But I never go out at all, Mijnheer." 
 
 " Didn't you go out at all this evening ? " 
 
 " I wasn't outside the house ; besides, it
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 185 
 
 was very stormy, and at my age one doesn't 
 venture out in a blinding rain-storm for 
 fun." 
 
 " Then you were in your room ? " 
 
 " No, Mijnheer, I was in the kitchen most 
 of the day, knitting by the stove." 
 
 "And you never left the kitchen for a 
 moment ? " 
 
 " Not for a minute until I went upstairs 
 to bed." 
 
 " Is your eyesight good ? " 
 
 " Mijnheer ? " questioned Gudule, not hav- 
 ing heard aright. 
 
 " I asked you if you had good eyes," re- 
 peated M. Tricamp. 
 
 " Oh ! I can see all right, even if I am a 
 little bit hard of hearing. And I have a good 
 memory, too " 
 
 " So you have a good memory, eh ? Then 
 tell me who called here to-day." 
 
 " Oh, there was the postman ; and a neigh- 
 bor who called to borrow a pie-plate and 
 Petersen who came to ask something of 
 Christina." 
 
 " Indeed ! And who is this Petersen ? " 
 
 " A neighbor, Mijnheer ; a night-watch- 
 man ; my master knows him well." 
 
 " Yes," said Balthazar, addressing the ser- 
 geant, " he is a poor devil who lost his wife a 
 month ago, and his two little children are
 
 I 86 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 both sick. We help the poor fellow from 
 time to time." 
 
 . " And this Petersen was in the house to- 
 day ? " 
 
 " No, Mijnheer," replied Gudule ; " he 
 only spoke to Christina from the sidewalk." 
 
 " And what did he tell her ? " 
 
 " I did not hear, Mijnheer." 
 
 " And did no one else call after him ? " 
 
 Gudule asked him to repeat the question, 
 then she replied : 
 
 " No one at all." 
 
 " And where was Christina while you were 
 knitting ? " 
 
 " Why, the dear child was looking after the 
 cooking for me, as I was too tired to move 
 from my chair. She is so kind and oblig- 
 ing ! " 
 
 " But she wasn't in the kitchen all the 
 time ? " 
 
 " No, Mijnheer, she retired to her own 
 room towards evening." 
 
 " So you say she retired to her own room 
 towards evening ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mijnheer, to dress for supper." 
 
 " And did she remain in her room a long 
 time ? " 
 
 " About an hour, Mijnheer." 
 
 " An hour? " 
 
 " Yes, fully an hour, Mijnheer."
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 187 
 
 " And you heard nothing during all this 
 time ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon " 
 
 " I asked you if you heard any noise for 
 instance, the sound of some one hammering 
 wood ? " 
 
 " No, Mijnheer." 
 
 " Yes, gentleman, she is as deaf as a door- 
 post," said M. Tricamp, turning towards the 
 young men. Then he approached Gudule and 
 raising his voice he added : 
 
 " I suppose the storm was at its height at 
 this time ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, mijnheer, I could hear the thun- 
 der plain enough." 
 
 " She has no doubt confounded the noise 
 made by the thief, in breaking in, with the 
 roar of the elements," he muttered to him- 
 self. " And then ? " he asked of Gudule in 
 a louder voice. 
 
 " And then, Mijnheer, night had fallen and 
 the storm raged furiously ; master had not 
 returned. I was terribly frightened, I got 
 down on my knees and said my prayers. 
 Just then Christina came down from her 
 room ; she was as white as a ghost, and was 
 trembling all over. Then the thunder burst 
 overhead and deafened me " 
 
 " Ah ! then you noticed that she was 
 nervous ? "
 
 1 88 ROMA NTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 " Certainly ! And so was I ; the storm 
 
 frightened me almost to death. Shortly after 
 
 .this, master knocked at the door, and Christina 
 
 let him in. Now, Mijnheer, this is all I know, 
 
 as sure as I am an honest woman." 
 
 " Don't cry, my good woman ; I tell you 
 that no one suspects you." 
 
 " But then, master, who do they suspect ? 
 Merciful Father ! " she exclaimed as the 
 truth flashed upon her. " Then they accuse 
 Christina ? " 
 
 No one answered her. 
 
 " Ah ! " continued the old woman ; " you 
 do not answer me ! Master, is this true ? " 
 
 " My poor Gudule ! " 
 
 " Andjw* let them accuse little Christina," 
 continued the old woman, who would not be si- 
 lenced. " That angel of kindness and love- 
 liness sent to us from Heaven ! " 
 
 " Come, come, if it is not you it must be 
 her," brutally interrupted Tricamp. 
 
 " Oh, why don't they blame me ? I am an 
 old woman and have not long to live ; but this 
 child is innocent and I won't let them touch 
 a hair of her head ! Ah, Mijnheer Balthazar, 
 do not let them touch Christina, she is a sa- 
 cred trust. Don't listen to that bad man he 
 is the cause of all this trouble ! " 
 
 M. Tricamp made a sign to his men, and 
 they seized the old woman by the arm. Gudule
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 189 
 
 advanced a few steps, then fell on her knees 
 near the fireplace, weeping and bemoaning 
 her fate. M. Tricamp then ordered his men 
 not to disturb the woman as she knelt there 
 offering up a prayer to heaven that Christina 
 should not suffer for a crime committed by 
 another. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " You see," remarked the agent of police, 
 turning towards Cornelius, " that no one has 
 called here whom we might have cause to 
 suspect neither the postman, the neighbor, 
 or that fellow Petersen. It therefore remains 
 between the old woman and the young girl ; 
 and, as I do not believe the old one is suf- 
 ficiently active to perform gymnastics, I beg 
 you to draw your own conclusions." 
 
 " Oh, do not ask me to form an opinion ; 
 I really do not know what to think ; it seems 
 as if it were all a frightful nightmare ! " 
 
 " I don't know whether it is a dream, but 
 it strikes me that I am pretty wide awake, 
 and that I reason remarkably well." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Cornelius, pacing nervously 
 up and down the room, " you reason remarka- 
 bly well ! " 
 
 " And my suppositions are logical enough." 
 
 " Yes, yes, very logical."
 
 I 90 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 " And so far I have not made a single error. 
 Therefore, you must admit that the young 
 girl is guilty." 
 
 " Well then, no ! " eagerly replied Corne- 
 lius, looking the sergeant square in the face. " 
 " No ! I will never believe her guilty, unless 
 she says so herself ! And God knows she 
 might declare that she is guilty, and yet I 
 wonld protest that she is innocent ! " 
 
 " But," objected the sergeant, " what proofs 
 can you produce ? I, at least, have proven 
 the truth of my assertions." 
 
 " Ah ! I know nothing, I can prove nothing," 
 replied Cornelius," and everything you have 
 said, every proof you have produced, is not to 
 be disputed " 
 
 " Weil then ? " 
 
 " But my conscience revolts against your 
 assertions nevertheless, and something seems 
 to cry out : ' No, no, her dear face, her despair, 
 her agony, are not those of a guilty wretch, 
 and I swear that she is innocent ! I can't 
 prove it but still I am sure of it, and I will 
 asset it in the face of the most damaging evi- 
 dence ! Oh, do not listen to her accusers ! 
 They will lie away the future of a noble girl ! 
 Their logic is born of earthly evidence mine 
 comes direct from heaven, and is therefore 
 true ! " 
 
 " Then"
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 191 
 
 " Do not heed them," continued Cornelius, 
 whose excitement was now intense ; " and re- 
 member that when your pride is ready to dis- 
 pute the existence of a God, something within 
 you cries out to affirm that He does exist! 
 And now since this voice proclaims the inno- 
 cence of the girl, how could I suspect her ? " 
 
 " If the police reasoned like that, criminals 
 would have an easy time of it." 
 
 " Oh, I will not attempt to convince you," 
 added Cornelius ; " continue your work ! GO 
 on with your search for evidence, and pile 
 your proofs one upon the other in your efforts 
 to crush this unfortunate child ; on the other 
 hand, I will begin my search to discover the 
 proofs of her innocence ! " 
 
 " Then I would advise you not to include 
 this among the latter." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that I found this black pearl " 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In her bureau drawer." 
 
 " Yes, my friend," interrupted Balthazar, 
 "he found it in my presence in her drawer." 
 
 Cornelius eagerly seized the pearl. The 
 proof was so convincing that he no longer 
 knew what to believe. The miserable little 
 pearl burned his hand as though it were a 
 red-hot coal he looked at it instinctively 
 without being able to see it and yet he
 
 192 ROMA N TIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 could not remove his eyes from this bit of 
 damning evidence ! Balthazar took him by 
 the hand, but Cornelius did not appear to 
 notice him. He never removed his eyes from 
 the pearl, yet the sight of it filled him with 
 horror. 
 
 " Cornelius ! " exclaimed Balthazar, now 
 thoroughly alarmed ; but Cornelius pushed 
 him roughly aside, and leaned over so as to 
 obtain a better view of the pearl. 
 
 " What's the matter with you, Cornelius ? " 
 Balthazar asked again. 
 
 " Get out of my way ! " and he once more 
 pushed his friend aside as he rushed to the 
 open window. 
 
 Balthazar and Tricamp exchanged a know- 
 ing glance while Cornelius, feverish with 
 excitement, rushed into the study. 
 
 " He has gone mad ! " grumbled M. Tri- 
 camp as he followed him with his eyes. 
 " Will you permit me to give a drink of cura- 
 coa to my men ? It is daylight now, and the 
 air is somewhat chilly." 
 
 " With pleasure. There is the bottle ; let 
 the men help themselves." 
 
 Tricamp then left the room. As Balthazar 
 turned around, he perceived old Gudule still 
 kneeling in the corner. A moment later he 
 had rejoined Cornelius in the study. 
 
 Cornelius was examining the handle of the
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 193 
 
 knife with the greatest attention. This scru- 
 tiny lasted several minutes ; then, without 
 offering a word of explanation, he mounted a 
 chair and proceeded to examine the piece of 
 broken wire. 
 
 "Where is the bell?" he suddenly de- 
 manded of Balthazar, who really believed 
 that his friend had taken leave of his senses. 
 
 " In the hallway." 
 
 Cornelius pulled the wire a number of 
 times, but the bell did not ring. 
 
 " Ah ! she did not overlook anything ; she 
 has removed the tongue ! " remarked Bal- 
 thazar with a sneer. 
 
 Cornelius, still as silent as a sphinx, con- 
 tinued his examination of the wire ; it passed 
 through a little tin tube about the size of a 
 putty-blower ; the wire moved freely in this 
 groove, therefore there was nothing out of 
 gear in that direction. 
 
 " Now, look at the bell and tell me if it 
 rings when I pull the wire." 
 
 Balthazar went out into the hall and did as 
 directed. 
 
 " Does it move ? " called out Cornelius. 
 
 " Just a little," answered Balthazar, " but 
 it can't ring because the bell is turned upside 
 down, with the tongue in the air." 
 
 " Good ! We will look into that later. Now, 
 steady the secretaire while I get up there."
 
 1 94 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 Then, with the assistance of the knife, 
 
 Cornelius drew himself up painfully to where 
 
 - the paper had been removed, as if he desired 
 
 to test the practicability of such an ascension. 
 
 Just then Gudule set up a frightful howl 
 outside ; Balthazar left his friend in mid-air 
 while he ran out to see what was the 
 matter. 
 
 " Oh, master," she cried ; " she has just 
 escaped ! " 
 
 "Christina?" 
 
 " Yes, Mijnheer, I saw her as she fled 
 through the garden. Make haste and follow 
 her before it is too late ! " 
 
 " The little serpent ! " exclaimed M. Tri- 
 camp ; " she was playing possum then after 
 all. Now then, my lads, let me see how soon 
 you will catch her." 
 
 All the officers started off, with Tricamp at 
 their head ; while Balthazar ran into the 
 young girl's room, to assure himself that she 
 was no longer there. 
 
 Instead of Christina, Balthazar was con- 
 fronted by Cornelius, who had entered the 
 room through the opening in the partition. 
 
 " That's right ! Look for her, my friend. 
 You must now admit that she is guilty, as she 
 has just run away." 
 
 " I tell you that she is innocent," exclaimed 
 Cornelius as his eyes flashed fire ; " We alone
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 195 
 
 are guilty for we have wrongfully accused 
 an innocent person ! " 
 
 " You must be mad ! " 
 
 " You will not say so after I have proven 
 to you that I know the name of the thief," 
 continued Cornelius as he smiled sarcastically 
 at the doubts expressed on Balthazar's coun- 
 tenance. " And I am going to tell you how 
 he entered and how he went out ! In the 
 first place, he did not come in by this window, 
 nor by that opening ; he simply glided down 
 your chimney, and, via the fireplace, reached 
 your study." 
 
 " You say that the thief entered my study 
 by the chimney ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! And as he is celebrated for 
 his weakness for metals, his first move was to 
 gather your gold and your silver ; then he 
 forced the steel lock of your portfolio and the 
 iron lock of your secretaire, and gathering to- 
 gether your florins, your ducats, and your 
 jewels, he carried them off, leaving your knife 
 as a memento of his little visit. From the 
 study, he jumped into the room of this unfor- 
 tunate child, dashing through the woodwork 
 and paper in his mad flight, and dropping the 
 pearl in this drawer as he passed through 
 here. And if you want to know what has be- 
 come of your medallion, look ! " 
 
 He drew aside the curtains of the bed and
 
 1 96 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 pointed to the little copper crucifix suspended 
 on the wall, and which was now completely 
 gilded in melted gold. 
 
 * " This is what he did with your medal- 
 lion ! " 
 
 And, plunging his hand into the receptacle 
 for the holy water, he drew out the glass cov- 
 ers of the medallion, which were moulded 
 together with the flower in the centre. 
 
 " And this is what he did with the rest ! " 
 
 Balthazar gazed upon his friend with aston- 
 ishment. He did not know what to expect 
 next. 
 
 " And now, if you want to know how he 
 went out," continued Cornelius as he dragged 
 him to the window, " look ! " 
 
 He pointed to the top pane of the window, 
 which was pierced by a little hole about the 
 size of a cent. 
 
 " But what does all this mean ! " exclaimed 
 Balthazar, who began to believe that he, too, 
 was taking leave of his senses. " Who did 
 this ? " 
 
 " Why, you fool ! Can't you see that the 
 house has been struck by lightning ! ! " 
 
 Balthazar might have been struck by light- 
 ning, too, for that matter, as he was more 
 dead than alive, when he at last realized 
 how they had all b<^en deceived by the hand 
 of Nature. A loud noise was heard outside.
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 197 
 
 They both rushed to the window and looked 
 out. 
 
 A crowd surrounded the house as four offi- 
 cers, carrying a stretcher, on which Christina 
 was lying, entered the front door ! 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE poor child in her despair, had thrown 
 herself into the Amstel, but Petersen the 
 night-watchman, like the brave lad that he 
 was, had sprung into the water and pulled 
 her out. 
 
 After she had been put to bed, and had re- 
 ceived a visit from a physician, who prescribed 
 plenty of rest and quiet, M. Tricamp ap- 
 proached the young men. 
 
 " As the young girl is not in a condition to 
 be removed to-day, my men and I will retire." 
 
 " Why, hasn't Cornelius told you ? Chris- 
 tina is innocent and we know the thief." 
 
 " The thief ! " exclaimed M. Tricamp, 
 " and who is it ? " 
 
 " Why, the lightning, of course ! " laugh- 
 ingly replied Balthazar. 
 
 M. Tricamp opened his eyes in amazement, 
 as he repeated: 
 
 " The lightning ? " 
 
 " Why, naturally! " replied Cornelius; "you
 
 1 98 ROMANTIC LIBRAE Y. 
 
 apply the study of psychology in your crimi- 
 nal researches, while I employ my knowledge 
 of meteorology that's the only difference in 
 our methods." 
 
 " And you pretend to say that all this was 
 caused by lightning ? " demanded M. Tri- 
 camp, who was losing his temper. 
 
 " Why, all this is as nothing when compared 
 with some of the capers lightning has been 
 known to cut. How about the tack it tears 
 up from the carpet and drives through a mir- 
 ror without cracking the glass ; and the key 
 it takes out of the lock and conceals in the 
 ice-box ; and the package of cigarettes it deli- 
 cately removes from the bronze ash-receiver 
 which it has ignited ; and the silver it vola- 
 tilizes through the silken meshes of a purse 
 without damaging the latter ; and the needles 
 it magnetizes so thoroughly that they run after 
 a hammer ; and the pretty little hole it made 
 in Christina's window ; and the wall-paper it so 
 deftly disarranged to furnish with your won- 
 derful clue ; and this medallion, the glass of 
 which it melted without injuring in the least 
 the flower it contained, thus forming the most 
 beautiful specimen of enamel I have ever seen, 
 and making a finer wedding gift than the most 
 skilled artist could have turned out ; and 
 finally, the gold of the medallion which gilded 
 Christina's crucifix ! "
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 199 
 
 " Humbug ! " protested M. Tricamp, " it is 
 impossible ! And how about the package ! 
 The package she was seen to hand a man 
 from out the window ? " 
 
 " The man is here to answer that question 
 himself ! " and a perfect colossus entered 
 the room. 
 
 " Petersen ! " 
 
 "At your service. And the package 
 contained some old dresses for my little 
 children." 
 
 " Old clothes, that's excellent ! " replied 
 Tricamp,who was fairly boiling over with rage. 
 " But how about the gold, and the silver, the 
 ducats and the florins, and the other jewels ; 
 where are they ? " 
 
 " Zounds ! " exclaimed Cornelius, striking 
 his forehead ; " that reminds me " 
 
 He sprang on the table, and reaching up to 
 the overturned bell, he suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 " Here they are ! " 
 
 A huge ingot of gold, silver and jewels fell 
 on the floor from the bell, together with the 
 tongue of the bell, which had been detached, 
 the whole being melted solidly together. 
 
 " M. Tricamp picked up the ingot and ex- 
 amined it carefully. 
 
 " But tell me," he asked, " what put you on 
 the track ? " 
 
 " Cornelius smiled as he replied :
 
 200 ROMA N TIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 " This black pearl, Mijnheer, which you 
 handed to me, defying me to prove Christina's 
 Innocence in the face of such evidence." 
 
 " The black pearl ! " 
 
 " Exactly, Mijnheer ! Do you see this lit- 
 tle white speck ? Well, that was caused by 
 electricity ! And, thanks to this little speck, 
 I have succeeded in saving the honor of a 
 fellow-being." 
 
 "You must accept my congratulations," said 
 he, bowing humbly ; " the man of science is 
 more far-sighted than the police, and in 
 future I intend to add the study of natural 
 philosophy and meteorology to my other 
 acquirements. Were it not for this undoubt- 
 ed proof I might have committed a still more 
 serious error. I actually began to suspect 
 that you were her accomplice." 
 
 And then M. Tricamp withdrew, in order 
 not to show his embarrassment, and Gudule 
 rushed in to say that Christina was better and 
 had heard everything through the partition. 
 
 " My little Christina," said Balthazar as he 
 knelt by her bedstead a little later, " if you 
 do not want to make me unhappy pray do 
 not refuse to accept this little token of my 
 esteem." 
 
 And he placed the ingot of melted gold 
 and jewels on the bed. 
 
 Christina hesitated.
 
 THE BLACK PEARL. 201 
 
 " Oh, you must take it, for you need a 
 dower " exclaimed Balthazar as he pressed 
 her hand. 
 
 " That is if, you will accept me for a hus- 
 band ? " added Cornelius. 
 
 Christina did not reply, but she gave the 
 man who had saved her honor a look which 
 certainly did not mean No.
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 
 
 203
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 
 
 BY PAUL FEVAL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE chateau of Saint-Maugon was already 
 very old in the seventeenth century ; almost 
 as old, in fact, as the noble Mauguer race, 
 the founders of which swore allegiance to the 
 Riche Due without uncovering their heads in 
 his presence. But now La Marche, Porhoet 
 and Mauguer are dead ; the ducal throne of 
 Brittany no longer exists since centuries, and 
 still the chateau of Saint-Maugon, with its 
 five lofty towers, stands on the summit of 
 Ernec-le-Vicomte, three leagues from the 
 good city of Rennes. Its turrets still over- 
 looked the plain as in the time when those 
 who inhabited the lowlands, from Chatillon 
 to Saint-Hellier, obeyed Mauguer. 
 
 The traveller halts at the foot of the 
 mountain and gazes upwards at this huge 
 pile of masonry, whose turrets seem to 
 205
 
 206 ROMANTIC LIBRARY, 
 
 reach the very skies. He stops for a moment 
 and uncovers his head at the sight of this 
 -grand old edifice, a monument of a by-gone 
 age. Ten centuries have passed since its 
 corner-stone was laid : centuries in which 
 its occupants have seen that glorious and 
 golden age, the days of sincerity, valor and 
 chivalry ; and the age of bronze when brave 
 men cast aside their armor to don silk attire ; 
 and the age of iron when it was customary 
 to chop off the heads of kings ; and, finally, 
 the age which deals only in deceit, corrup- 
 tion, treason and perjury the age of lead of 
 the present time ! 
 
 Two avenues lead from the plain to the 
 chateau Saint-Maugon. The incline of one 
 of these roads is not at all perceptible until 
 it reaches the southern arch ; while the other, 
 leading to Rennes, follows the abrupt and 
 steep ramparts. These two avenues are only 
 discernible now by their sloping talus. The 
 brush and the underwood have grown over 
 the wide roads, but in the seventeenth century, 
 when the Mauguers of Saint-Maugon were 
 prominent factors in the affairs of state of 
 Brittany, a quadruple row of noble oaks bor- 
 dered each side of the road. 
 
 On an afternoon in the winter of 1683, two 
 cavaliers entered the park almost simulta- 
 neously. One followed the road which led to
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 207 
 
 the southern arch, while the other was on 
 the Rennes road. They were both young 
 and handsome, and they wore the white uni- 
 form, faced with silver, which denoted the 
 officers of the regiment of the Crown. The 
 one who was coming from Rennes was 
 mounted on a superb animal which he 
 handled with admirable grace. He appeared 
 to be about two and twenty, and his noble 
 features were both firm and gentle in their 
 expression. From beneath his plumed cap 
 a mass of jet-black ringlets escaped, fairly 
 reaching down to the captain's epaulettes he 
 wore. 
 
 The other cavalier was even younger. He 
 had evidently come a long distance, as his 
 mount was jaded and covered with mud up 
 the quarters. Although he greatly resembled 
 the captain, still his features were finer and 
 more delicate, while there was less firmness 
 and more passion in his regard. This hand- 
 some youth had a growth of luxuriant blond 
 hair which might have been the envy of many 
 an officer, although he only sported an 
 ensign's galon on his coat-sleeve. 
 
 He urged his horse on furiously, although 
 the poor beast had long since become dead 
 beat, and he appeared to be in a great haste 
 to reach the chateau in advance of the other 
 cavalier. In spite, of his exertions, however,
 
 208 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 he reached there a minute or two after the 
 other rider had dismounted. 
 As soon as they caught sight of one an- 
 other they gave a shout of joy, and in 
 another moment they were clasped fondly in 
 each other's arms. 
 
 " Roger ! " exclaimed the captain as he 
 tenderly kissed the ensign. 
 
 " Monsieur mon frtre ! " replied the latter 
 with a touch of respect in his manner. 
 
 " Nonsense, Roger ! That's all very well 
 in the regiment or in public ; but, when we 
 are alone, man to man and brother to 
 brother call me Bertrand ! " 
 
 The young officers then entered the court- 
 yard together. They were MM. de Saint- 
 Maugon, sons of Chevalier Herve Mauguer 
 de Saint-Maugon, baron of Kerhuan, who 
 died a field marshal of France. They had 
 not seen each other during the past six 
 months. During this time Roger had been 
 stationed at Nantes on garrison duty, while 
 Bertrand's regiment was quartered at Rennes. 
 This was the first time they had even been 
 separated before, and they loved each other 
 as only brothers can love when they are all 
 the world to each other. 
 
 " Gracious, how you have grown, Roger !" 
 remarked Bertrand as they wended their 
 way through the long corridors of Saint-
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 209 
 
 Maugon. " You are as tall and strong as 
 a man." 
 
 Roger stroked the few stray hairs which 
 were beginning to make their appearance on 
 his upper lip. 
 
 Why, I am a soldier, Bertrand," he replied, 
 " and all soldiers should be manly and strong. 
 But you are as brown as a berry, and how 
 gracefully you curl your moustache ! By my 
 faith, I'll wager there's not another officer in 
 the King's regiment who can compare with 
 you in good looks ! " 
 
 And Roger gazed admiringly at his bro- 
 ther. The captain smiled as he passed his 
 hand tenderly through the ensign's blond hair. 
 
 They now reached the reception room in 
 which Herve Mauguer formerly received his 
 guests. They uncovered themselves before 
 their father's portrait, while they both whis- 
 pered an Ave for the repose of the lady of 
 Saint-Maugon, who seemed to smile upon 
 them fondly from her gilded frame. Then 
 they seated themselves, side by side, beneath 
 a trophy of arms, surmounted with the Saint- 
 Mauguer coat-of-arms. 
 
 " Six months, brother ! It seems an age," 
 began Roger. " And if M. de Gadague, our 
 colonel, had not recalled me to Rennes, I 
 really believe I should have been tempted to 
 desert my post in order to pay you a visit."
 
 2 1 o ROMA N TIC L IBRA R K 
 
 " You are as wild as ever, I see. Now, 
 tell me, what have you done during all this 
 time ? " 
 
 " Lots of things, brother. They have gay 
 times in Nantes, you know, and the young 
 noblemen of that town handle their swords 
 tolerably well " 
 
 " You surely don't mean to tell me that 
 you have been fighting ! " interrupted Ber- 
 trand. 
 
 " What a question to ask me ! I am almost 
 nineteen." 
 
 " And with whom have you crossed 
 swords ? " 
 
 " How can I tell I don't remember ! Why, 
 with this one and that one, of course ; I am 
 alway ready to accommodate those who are 
 anxious to test their skill against mine. But 
 come, let us change the subject ! " 
 
 There was certainly a strange contrast in 
 Bertrand's solicitude and Roger's indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 "As you say, let us drop the subject," said 
 the elder Saint-Maugon. " It is evident that 
 we will never agree on this question. I don't 
 fancy these combats, where two good servitors 
 of the King permit themselves to be killed 
 for mere pleasure, just as one would dance 
 the minuet." 
 
 " It is the duty of all noblemen."
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE 21 1 
 
 " It is the hobby of a maniac, when it is 
 not the weakness of a lad. I, too, have 
 crossed swords, Roger ; but it was with a 
 heavy heart, I assure you." 
 
 " You are severe, monsieur mon/tire" said 
 Roger reproachfully. 
 
 " Pardon me, I should have withheld those 
 words. But I do love you so, Roger ! " 
 
 The latter smiled as he pressed Bertrand's 
 hand against his heart. 
 
 " Brother," said he in a caressing tone, 
 " the next time I have an affair of honor I 
 will call on you for advice, and, since you do 
 not care to discuss my duels, let us talk of 
 love." 
 
 " Already ! " exclaimed Bertrand. 
 
 "lam nearly nineteen," repeated Roger, 
 with a comical expression. 
 
 " Very good. And may I ask who it is ? " 
 
 " I could never think of such a thing ! 
 Besides, I know the code of honor from be- 
 ginning to end, my dear captain, so it 
 is now my turn to be severe. Fie ! I am 
 ashamed of you ! How curious you are, to 
 be sure ! " 
 
 " You are right. A man of honor should 
 never divulge the name of the woman he 
 loves. I, too " 
 
 " Are you also in love ? " interrupted Roger 
 with a laugh.
 
 212 ROMA N TIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 Bertrand nodded his head affirmatively. 
 
 " So much the better ! " exclaimed Roger, 
 '.' for now, at least, we will agree. But you 
 must not misjudge me, brother, for I love 
 honestly and sincerely, and not lightly, as you 
 suppose." 
 
 " That's a pity ! " involuntarily remarked 
 the captain. 
 
 " Why ? She is wealthy, beautiful " 
 
 " And does she love you ? " 
 
 " I believe so. She knows that I worship 
 her, and that I am hers, body and soul. I 
 have frequently read a confession in her 
 smile " 
 
 "Woman's smiles are not to be trusted, 
 Roger." 
 
 The ensign became pensive ; then he as- 
 sumed a patronizing air : 
 
 " Can it be that you are unfortunate in 
 love ? " 
 
 " Not at all," answered Bertrand. 
 
 " Because from your manner I thought 
 but I must be mad ! The woman whom you 
 love must be proud indeed. She of all others 
 should be happy." 
 
 " If that is all that is necessary to make 
 her happy she will indeed be the happiest 
 woman in France, for I love her, Roger, with 
 all my heart." 
 
 "It is thus that I love, brother."
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 213 
 
 " I love her as woman was never loved be- 
 fore she is so beautiful ! " 
 
 " Oh ! not a bit prettier than mine, I war- 
 rant you," eagerly interrupted Roger. 
 
 " She is prettier than any living woman, 
 brother. Ah ! if you could but see her ! " 
 
 " And if you could only see mine ! " 
 
 " Have I not seen all the beauties for 
 which Rennes is noted ? She shines like a 
 gem among her companions." 
 
 Roger made a gesture of impatience. 
 
 " Nantes is a much larger town than 
 Rennes," he protested, "and the one I love 
 is the pearl of Nantes." 
 
 " While Rennes is the centre of the nobil- 
 ity," responded Bertrand, who was now fully 
 as indignant as his brother. " Who but a 
 lovesick youth would have the audacity to 
 compare the shopkeepers of Nantes with the 
 noble ladies who are followers of the 
 States ! " 
 
 " But she is a follower of the States ! " ex- 
 claimed Roger with rage ; " noble blood 
 courses through her veins, and, by Heaven 
 were you not my brother " 
 
 And his hand instinctively sought the hilt 
 of his sword, then, ashamed of this sudden 
 outburst of passion, he buried his face in the 
 captain's bosom. The latter had now re- 
 sumed all his sang-froid.
 
 2 1 4 ROMA KTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 " What a child you are, to be sure ! " he 
 murmured as he drew Roger close to him ; 
 " 'tis I who am in the wrong, or rather we 
 have both committed an indiscretion. They 
 must both be beautiful since we love them 
 so devotedly." 
 
 Roger arose and returned Bertrand's em- 
 brace, but traces of his ill-humor still lin- 
 gered around the graceful curves of his 
 mouth. 
 
 " You must see her ! " he continued. " I 
 want you to ask my forgiveness, and, like a 
 chevalier who has been unhorsed in battle, 
 you must declare yourself defeated." 
 
 " If it will please you, I am willing to ad- 
 mit anything you wish." 
 
 " Not at all ! You must judge for your- 
 self." 
 
 " But," objected Bertrand, " Nantes is a 
 long distance from here." 
 
 " She is no longer at Nantes but at Rennes ; 
 and the next time one of the followers of the 
 States gives a reception " 
 
 " There is a ball to-night at the hotel of 
 M. le Marquis de Poulpry, Lieutenant to the 
 King," interrupted Bertrand. 
 
 " Then I have the honor to formally chal- 
 lenge you, brother, and the question will be 
 decided this very night. Ah ! my dear cap- 
 tain, love does not concede the rights of su-
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 215 
 
 periority of an elder brother, and I predict 
 that you will meet with a sorry defeat ! " 
 
 " We shall see ! " replied Bertrand, smil- 
 ing, although his pride had been sadly 
 wounded. " I accept your challenge, and 
 with the grace of God and the King's pleas- 
 ure, may the best man win ! " 
 
 A few hours later, and just as the shades 
 of night were falling, MM. de Saint- Maugon, 
 concealing their bright uniforms beneath 
 their long mantles, vaulted into the saddle 
 and galloped out of the court-yard of the 
 chateau. Six gentlemen of the horse, wear- 
 ing the de Maugon livery, and four armed 
 lackeys brought up the rear. In these days 
 this was considered an almost royal escort: 
 but, a hundred years before, no less than fifty 
 sword-bearers would have formed a suitable 
 escort for the first-born of the Saint-Maugons. 
 
 The two brothers, impatient to forever set 
 at rest this all-important question, sank the 
 rowels of their spurs deep into their horses' 
 flanks, and soon left both equerries and val- 
 ets far behind. All along the road, Roger 
 chanted his victory, and tantalized his bro- 
 ther with satirical, although perfectly innocent 
 remarks. The captain let him have his own 
 way, confident that he would triumph before 
 long. 
 
 They drew rein before the gates of Rennes,
 
 2 1 6 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 and then the shelly pavements emitted sparks 
 of fire beneath their horses' hoofs, as they 
 again dashed off at breakneck speed. After 
 a half-hour's mad gallop through the narrow 
 and winding streets of the old city, they fin- 
 ally caught a glimpse of the sky which, up to 
 that moment, had been concealed by the 
 towering gables of the houses. They entered 
 the Place du Palais. To the right, an edi- 
 fice of noble architecture presented a brilliant 
 facade, all the windows being illuminated. 
 This was the the residence of the King's 
 Lieutenant. 
 
 MM. de Saint-Maugon threw their bridles 
 to the lackeys who were drawn up in line 
 before the entrance, and ascended the grand 
 stairway. 
 
 The lackeys announced them ; then they 
 made their entree in the brilliantly lighted 
 salon. 
 
 The rooms were crowded to their utmost 
 capacity, and the halls were fairly jammed. 
 A double row of women were grouped pict- 
 uresquely around the statuary and the arti- 
 cles de vertu. It was a scene never to be for- 
 gotten a panorama of flowers, pearls and 
 old lace. Diamonds sparkled ; the velvet 
 doublets of the men contrasted harmoniously 
 with the fur-trimmed corsages of the women ; 
 the sword-hilts scintillated, and the brilliants
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 217 
 
 of the clasps shone brightly in the light, while 
 the sachets of the courtiers undulated gen- 
 tly in the perfumed breeze raised by hundreds 
 of gorgeous fans. 
 
 The enchanted eye delighted to feast on 
 this magnificent spectacle, and when the vio- 
 lins struck up the overture of the minuet then 
 in vogue, composed by Lulli, the spectator 
 forgot all earthly matters, and, for the time 
 being, imagined himself in the land of dreams. 
 
 Bertrand and Roger made a tour of the 
 rooms, searching here, there, and everywhere 
 for the ones they loved, but they failed to 
 meet with a reward for their trouble. 
 
 " Welcome to Monsieur le Baron de Ker- 
 huan," said the young officers of the King's 
 regiment, as Bertrand wended his way through 
 the crowd. 
 
 He bowed distractedly as he continued his 
 search. 
 
 As for Roger, he had no title, and his com- 
 panions only greeted him with a familiar 
 " Good-evening, Saint-Maugon." 
 
 The two brothers had now visited every 
 nook and corner of the vast edifice. 
 
 " She is not here ! " said Bertrand. 
 
 " She is not here ! " repeated Roger. 
 
 " Brother," continued the elder Saint- 
 Maugon, " we will have to declare our bet 
 off."
 
 2 1 8 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 An usher raised the tapestry of the main 
 salon. 
 
 . " Ah ! it may be she ! " exclaimed Roger, 
 on the gut vive. 
 
 " M. le President de Montme'ril ! " an- 
 nounced the lackeys. 
 
 Both the captain and the ensign were trem- 
 bling with excitement. 
 
 An old man, wearing the costume of a 
 president of the Parliament of Brittany, 
 crossed the threshold. A young woman of 
 extraordinary beauty was leaning on his 
 arm. 
 
 " See ! There she is ! " exclaimed the 
 two officers simultaneously with a cry of 
 triumph. 
 
 This revelation acted like a thunderbolt. 
 The two brothers looked at one another in 
 astonishment. Bertrand became livid, but 
 there was nothing but sorrow in his regard, 
 while Roger's eyes shot forth a glance of 
 rage. 
 
 " And you say she loves you ! " he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 Bertrand did not reply. Roger seized him 
 roughly by the arm. Then two tears coursed 
 down his cheeks, and closing his eyes to shut 
 out the scene, he fell backward, in a dead 
 faint, in Bertrand's arms.
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 219 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 M. LE MARQUIS DE POULPRY'S servants 
 announced many an illustrious personage that 
 night. Outside of the seigneurs holding 
 royal commissions, such as M. de Vendome, 
 Governor of Brittany ; M. de Pontchartrain, 
 collector of taxes ; Coetlogon, flag-officer of 
 the royal squadron, and many others, all the 
 great houses of Brittany were represented on 
 this occasion. Rohan chatted with Gou- 
 laine, Rieux and la Cheviere walked together 
 arm in arm ; Penhoet shook hands with Com- 
 bourg. It would have been necessary to 
 make a journey to Versailles, to find another 
 such noble assemblage. 
 
 The arrival of the president and his daugh- 
 ter caused a commotion, not only for MM. de 
 Saint-Maugon, but for the rest of those pres- 
 ent as well. M. de Montme'ril, the doyen of 
 the presidents of the parliaments of Brittany, 
 was strongly suspected of bad faith toward 
 his Majesty's* government. He incited that 
 feeling of opposition in the States which re- 
 pulsed the royal collector of taxes, on the 
 ground that the provinces had a right to ad- 
 minister their own revenues. Outside of the 
 States, his role was none the less active, but, 
 on the contrary, they claimed he was far more
 
 2 20 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y, 
 
 criminal, and many affirmed that he was a 
 partisan of that inoffensive though obstinate 
 revolt on the part of the peasants of upper 
 Brittany, who demanded nothing less than 
 that the compact of friendship existing be- 
 tween the King and the Duchesse Anne be 
 annulled. Madame de Sevigne", in her let- 
 ters, treats this insurrection with severity ; 
 while the historians hardly mention it at all, 
 and do not even trouble themselves with dis- 
 cussing the legitimacy of its motives. This 
 does not surprise us in the least, seeing that 
 the insurgents were defeated. 
 
 But Ireland was also conquered. With the 
 grace of God, may a like comparison never be 
 drawn between the treatment of the Irish by 
 the English, and the treatment of the Bretons 
 by the French ! France made every Breton 
 a Frenchman, while England, that gigantic 
 mart which is ever ready to traffic and barter 
 the blood and sweat of its sons,only conquered 
 Ireland so as to bleed her people. Besides, 
 the Bretons were a race of men, and it is 
 easily understood that among such a race it 
 is only natural that there should be some dis- 
 senting spirits to find fault with a woman for 
 assuming the right to alienate their nation- 
 ality, so as to secure a rich dower for another 
 country. 
 
 The revolt of which we speak was caused,
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 221 
 
 no doubt, by the resistance of the States to 
 the will of Louis XIV., and was frequently a 
 source of great annoyance to his Majesty as 
 well as to his ministers. In 1683, they ex- 
 perienced a sudden recrudescence, and a few 
 days previous to the ball given by the Mar- 
 quis de Poulpry, a pitched battle had taken 
 place only a few leagues from Rennes. The 
 peasants had been dispersed, leaving some 
 hundred odd prisoners in the hands of the 
 royalists ; but they had threatened to return, 
 and God knows they always kept their word 
 the Bretons never make an idle boast. 
 The prisoners had been incarcerated in 
 the old ducal chateau of Tour-le-Bat, and 
 a sharp watch was kept outside the city 
 gates. 
 
 It would therefore seem the height of 
 audacity on the part of M. de Montmeril, 
 suspected as he was of connivance with the 
 rebels, to thus brave the representative of the 
 King in his own house. Therefore, the an- 
 nouncement of his name caused a general stir 
 among those who attended the reception that 
 night. All eyes were riveted on the new ar- 
 rivals. He was an old man of gigantic stature 
 and severe physiognomy, denoting a strong 
 character and an inflexible will. He apparently 
 did not heed the attention he was attracting, 
 for he walked up to the Marquis de Poulpry
 
 222 ROMA N TIC LIBRA R Y. 
 
 and saluted him with dignity. Then he 
 mingled among the guests. 
 
 As to Mademoiselle de Montmeril, she 
 created no little stir. The sight of her filled 
 the breasts of the other women with spite 
 and envy ; while the men experienced an 
 altogether different feeling. Bertrand and 
 Roger were both right : she was the most 
 beautiful woman in Brittany ! 
 
 She was just eighteen : her every action 
 denoted grace and pride. Her noble brow 
 was framed in a cluster of golden ringlets, 
 which fell gracefully about her white shoul- 
 ders. Her eyes, which were of a dark blue, 
 seemed to reflect her every thought, while a 
 sweet smile lingered about her ruby lips, and 
 the perfect symmetry of her features seemed 
 to have been modelled after the paintings of 
 those old Italian masters who see the Holy 
 Virgin and the angels in the ecstacy of their 
 genius. All was grand and noble in this 
 beautiful woman ; even her name had a 
 touch of royalty about it : she was called 
 Reine. 
 
 Roger had seen her at Nantes, where M. 
 de Montme'ril was called during the early 
 part of the winter to listen to the appeals of 
 Clisson. The younger de Saint-Maugon was 
 ignorant of the ways of the world, and being 
 wild and foolish like most young scions of
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 223 
 
 la vielle noblesse, was seized with one of those 
 sudden and startling passions which kindle 
 rapidly in the hearts of those who have 
 nothing to occupy their minds. His love for 
 Reine knew no bounds ; this passion was 
 stronger than his timidity, he uttered tender 
 words of love and was not repulsed. 
 
 Who can tell where levity ceases, and 
 coqueiterie begins in woman ? Reine listened 
 to Roger. He was a handsome youth, and 
 he loved her so ! But when Reine left Nantes 
 to return to the capital of Brittany she did so 
 without any great compunction. 
 
 While Roger was breaking his heart over 
 her, Mile, de Montme'ril, to tell the truth, 
 only gave him a passing thought, and this is 
 how it come about : she met Bertrand de 
 Saint-Maugon at Rennes ; he resembled his 
 brother as a trusty sword resembles a fancy 
 rapier. And as she made this comparison, 
 Reine suddenly remembered Roger. And, 
 unfortunately, the comparison did not flatter 
 the younger brother. Bertrand Mauguer de 
 Saint-Maugon, Baron de Kerhuan, captain of 
 the King's regiment, was entitled to carry a 
 sword, and he had succeeded to the vast 
 estates of the Mauguers ; Roger, on the other 
 hand, was only permitted to carry a sword 
 when on duty ; at other times, he carried the 
 cane used by the ensigns at this period.
 
 224 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 This difference in station did not worry 
 Mile, de Montmeril in the least, but she had 
 a father, and he had considerable to say in 
 the matter. Besides, Bertrand, although a 
 valiant soldier and accomplished cavalier, was 
 not Roger, inferior as far as good looks were 
 concerned, and, when it came to a question 
 of intelligence and sagacity he was decidedly 
 his superior. Reine realized that at first 
 sight. Who knows ? Poor Roger may have 
 paved the way to the beautiful girl's heart, 
 but it was Bertrand who passed over this 
 road. In him, Reine no doubt beheld another 
 Roger, only that he was more perfect and 
 more worthy of her love. 
 
 Mile, de Montmeril was one of those girls 
 who engross the attention and monopolize 
 the homage of man. 
 
 Bertrand, just the opposite from Roger, 
 attempted to resist the attraction which drew 
 him instinctively towards her. He knew 
 that he was strong ; he had confidence in him- 
 self, but his strength betrayed him in the end. 
 And the more he resisted, the deeper Cupid's 
 shaft penetrated his heart. Bertrand loved 
 her as only men of noble instincts can love 
 with the tenderness of a father, the adoration 
 of a servitor, and the devotion of a lover. 
 
 As we said before, the discovery that they 
 loved the same woman, and were there-
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 225 
 
 fore rivals, was a terrible shock to both. 
 Roger was struck as if with a knife, full in the 
 heart ; a world of distressing thoughts filled 
 his mind ; he was young, and he succumbed 
 beneath the weight of this fatality. Ber- 
 trand's anguish was still more painful, but he 
 stood the shock bravely. Men like him fall 
 but once and then it is to die ! 
 
 His brother lay there, on a lounge, pale as 
 death, and without movement. But a few 
 feet away, Mile, de Montmeril, surrounded 
 with a bevy of admirers, was bestowing her 
 smiles right and left. Her gaze met that 
 of Bertrand, and her smile instantly vanished. 
 Her eyes seemed to express something more 
 than mere pleasure, and her admirers were 
 wild with envy. Bertrand placed his hand 
 over his heart, which was beating like a trip- 
 hammer beneath his uniform ; then, instead 
 of obeying the smile which was a summons 
 for him to join her, he bowed politely and 
 retreated towards the door. 
 
 He was but a son of Adam after all. Be- 
 fore crossing the threshold he turned round. 
 Reine's glance, piercing the crowd, reached 
 him even there, and seemed to question this 
 retreat. 
 
 " May God have mercy ! " murmured Ber- 
 trand, as he made a step towards the young 
 girl.
 
 226 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 Then his eye fell upon Roger's pale brow ; 
 he thrust aside all selfish motives, and, sud- 
 denly raising the portiere, he disappeared. 
 
 "What ails the Baron de Kerhuan to- 
 night ? " queried young M. de Kercornbec of 
 his vis-a-vis, Mile, de Quimper. 
 
 "Oh, happiness has turned his brain," in- 
 terrupted the younger de Tregaz, with the 
 peculiar accent of those who hail from 
 Nantes. 
 
 " The truth is," exclaimed M. de Chateau- 
 trubel, a big red-faced, whole-souled fellow, 
 who spoke through his nose as becomes a 
 true native of Rennes ; " the truth is, that the 
 little baron is the luckiest officer in the whole 
 army." 
 
 Then the inhabitants of Vitre", of Vannes, 
 of Saint-Brieuc and Saint-Malo had their lit- 
 tle say. At Vitre, they swell their words ; at 
 Vannes, the words slip through their thick 
 lips like honey ; at Saint-Brieuc, they mum- 
 ble their words to a peculiar cadence ; and at 
 Saint-Malo but, taking all in all, where do 
 you find those who speak correctly ? Is the 
 genuine French accent that noisy prattle we 
 hear across the Garonne ? or, is it rather the 
 gentle chuckle of Picardy ? the monotonous 
 chant of Normandy ? or the shrill and squeaky 
 falsetto of the Parisian ? 
 
 Reine heeded not this idle gossip, which
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 227 
 
 did not interest her in the least. Her eyes 
 were fastened on the door through which 
 Bertrand had just disappeared. 
 
 " Can it be that he no longer loves me ! " 
 she murmured. 
 
 And she turned away to brush aside a tear. 
 
 But woman is fickle: ten minutes later she 
 was dancing with one of her admirers. 
 
 When Roger finally shook off the feeling 
 of despair which oppressed him, he cast his 
 eyes around the room. 
 
 It was between two minuets. Numerous 
 couples were promenading up and down. 
 Suddenly he recognized Mile, de Montmeril's 
 voice above the rest, and the sound of her 
 silvery laugh sent the hot blood coursing 
 through his veins. Then he remembered 
 what had taken place, and he fairly trembled 
 with rage. 
 
 " He loves her ! " he exclaimed. " Ber- 
 trand ! my brother my own brother robs me 
 of my happiness !" 
 
 His head was bursting. 
 
 " My brother ! " he repeated with increased 
 fury. " Why was he not satisfied with that 
 which fortune has bestowed upon him ? 
 Titles, wealth, rank By Heavens ! We are 
 equals in the eyes of this woman ! If needs 
 be I will dispute her possession, come what 
 may ! "
 
 228 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 Great beads of perspiration stood out upon 
 hts forehead. 
 
 At this moment Mile, de Montmeril passed 
 him, leaning on the arm of a dashing cava- 
 lier. Instead of inciting him to violence, the 
 sight of the beautiful girl brought the tears 
 to his eyes anew. 
 
 " How could he help loving her ! " he mut- 
 tered, " poor Bertrand ! " 
 
 Then he staggered forward, He wanted 
 to see his brother, as he was anxious to put 
 an end to all this suspense and come to a 
 decided understanding. 
 
 His brother, however, had left the hotel; 
 while searching for him, he suddenly found 
 himself face to face with Reine, who, recog- 
 nizing him, blushed a deep red, but did not 
 attempt to conceal her embarrassment. Roger 
 approached her; Reine had entirely recovered 
 from that feeling of melancholy which op- 
 pressed her during the early part of the 
 evening. She was a little piqued, however, at 
 Bertrand's conduct, which naturally gave 
 Roger the preference just then. 
 
 Mile, de Montmeril recalled the beautiful 
 fetes in Nantes and the many pleasant inter- 
 views she had enjoyed with the young ensign. 
 Roger was fairly transported with joy. He 
 imagined himself beloved; whereas, in reality 
 she was only amusing herself at his expense
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 229 
 
 she was paying Bertrand back in his own 
 coin. 
 
 But there is an end to everything ! Plea- 
 sure, especially, is short-lived. Roger was 
 finally obliged to retire. 
 
 He had drunk his fill of happiness that 
 night, and still he was not satisfied. During 
 the rest of the evening he lingered about the 
 salons, feasting his eyes on the beautiful 
 Reine, and this persistent attention on his 
 part finally attracted the notice of a group of 
 spectators. 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! ho ! " exclaimed M. de Ker- 
 cornbec three times in succession, " I verily 
 believe that the little ensign is trying to fol- 
 low in his brother's footsteps." 
 
 Young de Tre"gaz, smiled the smile of an 
 imbecile as he lisped : 
 
 " He ! he ! he ! I have heard of such 
 things before ! " 
 
 Then M. de Chateautrubel, ventured his 
 opinion in a voice which squeaked like a rusty 
 door ; and the inhabitants of Vitre", of Vannes, 
 of Saint-Brieuc and Saint-Malo, followed suit 
 in a variation of twang, squeak and drawl. 
 And M. de Montme"ril himself noticed Roger's 
 bearing towards his daughter. Several times 
 he seemed on the point of addressing Roger, 
 but he invariably changed his mind. 
 
 Saint-Maugon heeded not the gossip of the
 
 230 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 fops, as he had eyes only for Reine. Had a 
 thunderbolt fallen at his feet, it would not 
 have disturbed his silent contemplation. 
 
 But to a soldier, the voice of his commander 
 sounds even louder than the roar of the ele- 
 ments. It was Gilbert de Gadague d'Has- 
 tung, Comte de Verdun, and colonel of the 
 King's Regiment, who awoke him from his 
 reverie. 
 
 "Where is your brother, Monsieur de 
 Saint-Maugun ? " asked the colonel, as he 
 tapped Roger familiarly on his shoulder. 
 
 The ensign was not thinking of his brother 
 just then, and this question naturally awak- 
 ened painful recollections. 
 
 " I don't know, Colonel," he replied with 
 evident confusion. 
 
 " I might have required his services. You 
 are brave, I know, Monsieur Saint-Maugon. 
 Are you also prudent ? " 
 
 " Monsieur ! " 
 
 " I did not mean to offend you ; but it is a 
 delicate matter listen to me." 
 
 M. de Montmeril had approached them 
 without attracting their attention. He 
 leaned against a marble pillar and listened. 
 
 " Monsieur de Saint-Maugon," continued 
 the colonel, " a hundred rebel prisoners 
 are confined in the chateau of Tour-le-Bat. 
 We fear an attack to-morrow. I intended to
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 231 
 
 place your brother in command of the castle, 
 but as he is not here, and the time presses, 
 you may replace him if you are willing." 
 
 " I am willing, Colonel, and I thank you 
 for your confidence." 
 
 " You will earn it, I am sure. Now, go 
 and prepare yourself at once." 
 
 The colonel saluted him, and approached 
 another officer. It was evident that strong 
 measures had been taken to guard against the 
 expected attack of the rebels. Just as Roger 
 was about to raise the portiere to pass out, 
 some one touched him on the arm, while a 
 voice whispered in his ear: 
 
 " A word with you, if you please, Monsieur 
 Saint-Maugon." 
 
 He turned around. President Montme'ril 
 stood beside him. At that moment Roger 
 would have excused himself from any other 
 man, but how could he refuse to speak to 
 Reine's father ? 
 
 " I am at your orders, monsieur," said he. 
 
 " Where can I meet you in two hours' time ? " 
 
 " At the chateau of Tour-le-Bat, where I 
 have just been assigned on duty." 
 
 "Very well; I will meet you there, mon- 
 sieur," calmly added M. de Montme'ril, and 
 the next moment he was lost in the crowd.
 
 232 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SOME years ago the ducal chateau of Tour- 
 le-Bat was still pointed out to visitors, with its 
 parapets rising far above the white roofs of 
 the modern dwellings. This old castle seemed 
 ashamed, not of its age, but of the insult 
 which had been inflicted upon it in its old 
 days. The home of the Riches Dues had been 
 transformed into a prison. In 1683, the old 
 chateau was neither one thing nor another. 
 At times it was a military post, and again it 
 served as an arsenal. In times of war, that 
 portion of the eastern ramparts which over- 
 looked the river Vilaine, together with the for- 
 tress of Saint-Georges, served as a military 
 prison. 
 
 It was here that the hundred insurgents, 
 who had been taken prisoners in the last 
 engagements, were confined. 
 
 The sun had just risen, and was gently dis- 
 persing the prismatic vapors from the low 
 marshes which separated the castle from the 
 river. Roger de Saint-Maugon, seated at the 
 base of the ramparts, was plunged in deep 
 reverie. He was no doubt meditating over 
 what had transpired the night before, at the 
 ball given by the Marquis de Poulpry. In his 
 fancy he perceived Reine, who was smiling at
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 233 
 
 him most sweetly; then he beheld his 
 brother, who appeared defeated and broken- 
 hearted. 
 
 " He thought she loved him ! " murmured 
 Saint-Maugon. " Poor Bertrand ! " 
 
 The voice of the sentinels challenging a 
 stranger aroused him suddenly from his 
 reverie. This stranger was of almost gigan- 
 tic stature. A slouched hat concealed his 
 features, while the rest of his person was 
 enveloped in the folds of a long cloak. 
 
 " Monsieur de Saint-Maugon ! " cried out 
 the stranger, " I have come to keep our 
 appointment." 
 
 " It must be President Montme'ril," 
 thought Roger, who had completely forgot- 
 ten this incident. Then he called out to 
 the sentry : 
 
 " Let the stranger pass ! " 
 
 The soldiers lowered their muskets and 
 drew aside. The president walked slowly 
 past the fortress and approached Roger. 
 
 " Thanks," said he. 
 
 He cast a glance over the terrace and 
 measured the distance which separated them 
 from the sentinels, as if to assure himself that 
 he would not be overheard. 
 
 " Monsieur de Saint-Maugon," he suddenly 
 remarked, as he concluded his examination; 
 " you love my daughter."
 
 234 ROMANTIC L1BRAR Y. 
 
 The young man could not restrain a move- 
 ment of astonishment. 
 
 " I tell you that you love my daughter," 
 repeated M. de Montme'ril in a peremptory 
 tone. " You have loved her for six months ; 
 it is useless for you to deny it, for I know 
 all. I suspected this already at Nantes, and 
 if any doubts remained in my mind they were 
 dispelled last night. Now, tell me, monsieur, 
 does my daughter love you ? " 
 
 But Roger only muttered something unin- 
 telligible in reply. 
 
 " At least you suppose she reciprocates 
 your affection ? " 
 
 " Ah ! If I might only believe it ! " 
 remarked Saint-Maugon with fervor. 
 
 " Well, if it is going to afford you any 
 satisfaction, you can believe it if you will," 
 interrupted M. de Montme'ril ; " but permit 
 me to continue. I did not come here to 
 listen to your protestations of love." 
 
 There was something in the manner of 
 this man which clearly denoted that it was 
 put on for the occasion. It was evident that 
 he was playing a part. 
 
 " I have called to say that Reine de Mont- 
 me'ril can never be your wife." 
 
 "Oh, monsieur, you surely cannot mean 
 this ! " exclaimed Roger, as his heart sank 
 within him. " And why this cruel decision ? "
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 235 
 
 " Because I am a Breton, monsieur, and 
 you are only a Frenchman." 
 
 Roger drew himself up proudly. 
 
 " Pardon me, monsieur le president," he 
 said, " but you seem to forget that my sword 
 has the precedence over your judicial robe ; 
 and that your forefathers walked unnoticed 
 in a crowd while mine were seated on the 
 steps of the ducal throne ! " 
 
 " So much the better for those who follow 
 the right path ! " exclaimed Montme'ril, show- 
 ing himself in his true colors at last. " So 
 much the worse for you if you do not follow 
 in their footsteps ! " 
 
 The old Breton was no longer enacting a 
 part. What he said was inspired by his love 
 of Brittany, and it was with a fresh outburst 
 of patriotism that he added : 
 
 " Your forefathers swore allegiance to a 
 duke, while you serve a king. Now, tell me 
 how your forefathers would have sided: with 
 the duke or with the king ? " 
 
 " But you are going back two hundred 
 years," interrupted Roger ; " there is no 
 longer a duke." 
 
 " Monarchs never die, monsieur," continued 
 Montmeril slowly, " and they possess certain 
 rights no one can suppress." And, remov- 
 ing his hat, he added : " Monseigneur Julien 
 d' Avaugour, the direct and legitimate descen-
 
 236 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 dant of the royal house of Dreux, although 
 an exile, without an army and without a for- 
 tune, is still Duke of Brittany by the grace of 
 God, just the same as if he had a hundred 
 thousand men and the treasures of the uni- 
 verse at his disposal ! " 
 
 " I sympathize with the Chevalier d'Avau- 
 gour, but I was born a subject of the King 
 and I wear his uniform." 
 
 " So much the worse for you ! " again 
 muttered Montme'ril. Then after a moment 
 of silence, he continued : " My determination 
 is irrevocable. All further discussion is 
 therefore useless. And yet there is a way 
 only one way do you hear, by which you 
 can overcome my scruples." 
 
 Roger listened attentively. His death war- 
 rant was about to be pronounced. 
 
 " I will not ask you to become a Breton, 
 since you were born a Frenchman. We are 
 numerous enough, Heaven be praised, with- 
 out imploring assistance from outside. How- 
 ever, a hundred brave followers of the noble 
 Duke are imprisoned within the walls of this 
 fortress, their only crime being their devotion 
 to his cause. If you will set them free I will 
 grant you the hand of my daughter as a re- 
 ward for this service." 
 
 " Why, this is high treason, monsieur ! " 
 exclaimed Saint-Maugon as he drew himself
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 2J7 
 
 up proudly. " How dare you propose such 
 an infamous bargain to me ! " 
 
 " As you say, // is a bargain" coolly re- 
 plied Montmeril. " A bargain in which you 
 have everything to gain ; whereas I, alone, 
 will be the loser. The greatest men in the 
 country are disputing the possession of my 
 daughter's hand, and yet I offer it to you, 
 when your brother would consider himself 
 fortunate indeed were a like favor bestowed 
 upon him." 
 
 " My brother ! " interrupted Roger, as his 
 heart was seared with jealousy. 
 
 " Exactly ! Your brother, who is as rich 
 as you are poor, as powerful as you are in- 
 significant." 
 
 Roger clapped his hands to his temples; he 
 thought he was losing his reason. 
 
 " I do not ask you to take a hand in the 
 liberation of the prisoners; I simply want you 
 to promise not to interfere. It is surely not 
 treason to fall asleep, and you must be very 
 tired after last night's excitement. I really 
 believe that Reine fancies you above all oth- 
 ers, Monsieur de Saint-Maugon." 
 
 " My God ! my God ! " murmured Roger, 
 struggling manfully against this terrible 
 temptation. 
 
 " It is for you to decide," continued the 
 wily Breton. " Now, answer me, do you
 
 238 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 wish to be Mile, de Montmeiil's hus- 
 band ? " 
 
 " Mercy ! mercy ! " pleaded the ensign. 
 " Can you not see that I am going mad ? Go 
 away ! leave me ! " 
 
 " Your refusal will make Reine seek con- 
 solation in the arms of another " 
 
 " Ah ! What you propose, monsieur, is 
 infamous ! You are committing an action 
 unworthy of a nobleman and a Christian to 
 thus tempt a sentinel at his post ! Go away ! 
 Leave me, I say ! " 
 
 " So be it, then ! " exclaimed Montmeril as 
 he turned his back upon the ensign. " Poor 
 Reine ! she expected a different answer than 
 this ! " 
 
 Roger uttered a cry of horror, and seizing 
 Montmeril by his cloak, he bade him stay. 
 
 " Monsieur," said he with that madness 
 which is born of despair ; " give me Reine 
 and take my honor ! " 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 It was high noon, and the rain poured 
 down in torrents. The doleful peals of the 
 tocsin were plainly audible miles away, as 
 they chimed simultaneously from the five 
 parish steeples of Rennes, while the big bell 
 in the watch-tower warned the inhabitants 
 that something unusual had occurred. 
 
 Bertrand de Saint-Maugon was returning
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 239 
 
 from his chateau when he heard the bells 
 ringing in the distance. 
 
 He was as pale as a ghost after a sleepless 
 night passed in agony and suspense. When 
 he left the ball-room the night before he 
 mounted his horse and started off on a gallop 
 in the direction of Saint-Maugon. The cool 
 night air, as it fanned his overheated brow, 
 could not restore his peace of mind. On 
 reaching the chateau, he hastened to the 
 salon where he and Roger had their inter- 
 view the day before, and, flinging himself into 
 an arm-chair, he gave way to despair. Sud- 
 denly his eyes rested upon his father's por- 
 trait, and the sight of that noble and loyal 
 countenance brought relief to his wounded 
 heart. 
 
 Then he crossed the salon with a firm 
 tread, and placed himself on his knees before 
 the portrait. 
 
 " Dear father," he said as he made the 
 sign of the cross, " ask God to take pity on 
 your sons and inspire them with the strength 
 to do right." 
 
 The hours of the night dragged along 
 slowly ; but Bertrand found the courage to 
 thrust aside his love for Reine ; his affection 
 for Roger was now pre-eminent, and his only 
 thought was to see him happily mated to the 
 woman of his choice.
 
 240 ROMANTIC LIBRAR Y. 
 
 After this painful victory of mind over 
 matter, he felt great relief. The first peals 
 of the tocsin which greeted his ears as he 
 rode towards Rennes filled his breast with a 
 savage joy. He scented the danger from 
 afar, and so he spurred on his horse, as he 
 was eager for the fray. He longed for the 
 dangers of the battle for death perhaps. 
 
 And, in truth, they were fighting like 
 fiends incarnate in the streets of Rennes. 
 The peasants had attacked the town in large 
 numbers ; they had come from the forest of 
 Pertre, from Saint-Aubin-du-Cormier and 
 Louvigne-du-Desert. The royal troops were 
 taken by surprise as they were attacked from 
 the rear by the inhabitants of the town, who 
 were joined a moment later by the hundred 
 rebels who seemed to have regained their 
 freedom as by enchantment. 
 
 The younger Saint-Maugon had also dis- 
 appeared as completely as if he had been 
 spirited away. 
 
 On the other hand, a single cavalier wearing 
 the uniform of the King's Own and the epau- 
 lettes of a captain, was seen to enter the gates 
 of the city by the faubourg Saint-Hellier. 
 Alone, and with no other weapon than his 
 trusty sword, he dashed upon the enemy from 
 the rear and mowed his way through their 
 serried ranks like a cannon-ball, and the next
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 241 
 
 moment he placed himself at the head of a 
 detachment of fusileers who were engaged 
 in the defence of the bridge of Viarmes. It 
 was Bertrand Mauguer de Saint-Maugon, 
 baron de Kerhuan. 
 
 With his arrival the tide of battle changed. 
 Although he was celebrated for his bravery, 
 the charge he made on this occasion added 
 to his reputation as a soldier and a man of 
 undoubted courage. The poor peasants fell 
 beneath the blows he rained upon them with 
 his sword, like wheat beneath the reaper. 
 
 They resisted for a long time, but were 
 finally compelled to disband. This move- 
 ment determined the fate of the insurgents. 
 But the royalists paid dearly for their 
 victory. Among the prisoners captured by 
 the rebels was Gilbert de Gadagne d'Hostung, 
 comte de Verdun, whom they carried off to 
 the mountains. 
 
 After the heat of battle had subsided, a 
 report was circled among the officers of the 
 King's regiment that President de Mont- 
 meril who had fled the town had bribed the 
 officer in charge of the chateau of Tour-le- 
 Bat to liberate the hundred prisoners. 
 
 Who was this officer ? No one could tell, 
 since it was Gilbert de Gadagne who had 
 changed the officer of the guard, and the 
 colonel was now a prisoner himself.
 
 242 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 Bertrand was too much engrossed in his 
 search for his brother to heed this report. 
 Covered with dust and blood, he ran through 
 the streets, seeking Roger. 
 
 Some persons affirmed that Roger de Saint- 
 Maugon was still at his post, while others 
 declared that he had been carried off by the 
 rebels, together with the other prisoners. 
 
 Finally, one of his brother-officers insisted 
 on his listening to the story of the treason 
 which sullied the honor of the King's regiment. 
 
 At the mention of Reine's father, Bertrand 
 started as a suspicion of the truth flashed 
 upon his mind. He turned his horse around 
 and started off at breakneck speed towards 
 the fortress of Tour-le-Bat. 
 
 The platform was deserted ; but, on enter- 
 ing the guard-room, Bertrand found himself 
 face to face with his brother. 
 
 " Say that it is not you ! " exclaimed Ber- 
 trand ; " tell me that you are not guilty ! " 
 
 But Roger did not attempt to defend him- 
 self; Bertrand, whose heart was breaking, 
 seated himself beside him. 
 
 " Tell me, brother," he continued in a sup- 
 plicating voice ; " tell me that you are in- 
 nocent." 
 
 Same silence. 
 
 A flash of indignation shone in Bertrand's 
 eyes.
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 243 
 
 At this moment the officers in the adjoining 
 room could be heard as they discussed the 
 situation. 
 
 " We must discover the traitor ! " cried one 
 of the officers. 
 
 Roger arose from his seat, and, placing 
 his hand over his heart, he staggered and 
 fell an inanimate mass on the guard-room 
 floor. 
 
 Bertrand stooped over him and imprinted a 
 kiss on his icy brow. Then he walked out 
 of the guard-room, locking the door behind 
 him. 
 
 " The traitor ! Where is the traitor ! " 
 yelled the officers outside. 
 
 " He is here, gentlemen ! " said Bertrand 
 de Saint-Maugon as he approached the other 
 officers. 
 
 They started back in surprise. 
 
 " Monsieur de Saint-Maugon," said Hugue 
 de Maurevers, the lieutenant-colonel, " I 
 witnessed your noble conduct during the en- 
 gagement, so I cannot look upon you as a 
 traitor." 
 
 " I tell you that I am guilty ! " insisted 
 Bertrand. 
 
 Maurevers reflected a moment. 
 
 " There is a mystery in all this that I do 
 not understand," he said, " Nevertheless, I 
 must do my duty. In the name of his
 
 244 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 Majesty Louis XIV., I summon you to sur- 
 render your sword ! " 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE following morning found the two 
 brothers confined in a dunjon of Tour-le-Bat. 
 Roger was tossing about restlessly on the 
 camp bed, which, with two stools, was the only 
 furniture the prison contained. 
 
 Bertrand, kneeling before a wooden crucifix 
 which was suspended from the wall, was say- 
 ing his matinal devotions. 
 
 Suddenly the roll of the drums sounding 
 the reveille aroused Roger from his slumber. 
 His eyes fell on Bertrand as he knelt there 
 on the hard floor of the cell. 
 
 " Ah ! it was only a dream, after all ! " he 
 murmured. "A frightful and cruel dream, 
 Bertrand." 
 
 Bertrand arose and, approaching Roger, he 
 seated himself beside him on the camp bed, 
 as he replied in a severe yet kindly voice : 
 
 " May God bless you, brother." 
 
 " If you only knew what I dreamed ! " con- 
 tinued Roger as he kissed his brother tender- 
 ly. " I shudder when I think of it but where 
 are we ? these cold walls, this damp ground 
 what does it all mean "
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 245 
 
 And Roger fell backwards on the cot. 
 
 " Oh, horrors ! It was not a dream then, 
 after all ! Our father's name is sullied " 
 
 Bertrand took his brother's hand and 
 pressed it in his own. A father's love was de- 
 picted in the look the first-born Saint Maugon 
 bestowed upon him. Roger sobbed violently 
 and he attempted no longer to restrain his 
 tears. 
 
 " It is you who will marry her ! " he gasped 
 between his sobs. " Fool that I was ! The 
 wretch deceived me." 
 
 " The temptation was too strong for one of 
 your years to resist, brother." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " exclaimed Roger. " How could 
 I resist him ? I can still hear his words ring- 
 ing in my ears. And if he had asked me a 
 still greater sacrifice but what more could 
 he have demanded ! " 
 
 He suddenly withdrew his hand, and 
 turned his head towards the wall. 
 
 ''You must despise me, monsieur mon 
 frere," he sobbed. 
 
 " I love you and I pity you," tenderly re- 
 plied the captain. 
 
 " You pity ! and why should you not : since 
 you are happy ! " 
 
 Bertrand raised his eyes to heaven. 
 
 " Brother," said he, "you suffer ; you know 
 not what you say. I forgive you."
 
 2 46 ROMA N TIC L1BRAR Y. 
 
 " What care I for your forgiveness ! " cried 
 out Roger fiercely, as he sprang to his feet. 
 "And I scorn your pity, monsieur. Reine 
 loved me, I know it, I swear it ! I swear 
 it, do you hear ? " 
 
 And he paced up and down the dungeon 
 with long strides. 
 
 " She loves me they will kill me you 
 will then marry her but " 
 
 " You misjudge me, brother," calmly re- 
 plied Bertrand. 
 
 Roger halted and looked his brother full 
 in the face. Suffering frequently corrupts 
 those who are weak. At that moment he 
 thoroughly despised his brother. 
 
 "The hypocrite!" he thought. "He 
 scoffs at me after he has cheated me of my 
 happiness ! " 
 
 Then he added roughly : 
 
 " What do you want here ? I am a prison- 
 er; you are free ; can't I even enjoy the pri- 
 vacy of my prison ? " 
 
 " Poor boy ! " murmured the elder Saint- 
 Maugon. 
 
 He judged Roger after his own nature. 
 It is true that Roger suffered, but his torture 
 was not that of remorse. Ignorant of his 
 brother's devotion, he believed that he was a 
 prisoner, accused of treason. The punish- 
 ment which was to follow seemed to him like
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 247 
 
 an expiation. But it was the thought that he 
 had not profited by his treachery which in- 
 furiated him. Reine would escape him af- 
 ter all. His honor, that priceless stake, had 
 been played and lost. In return, shame was 
 heaped upon him instead of the happiness he 
 expected. 
 
 The fatal shame which cannot be atoned 
 for : the scaffold. 
 
 But his mad jealousy blinded him to his 
 shame. His suffering lay in the loss of the 
 woman he loved. 
 
 The day before, Roger was still a loyal, 
 though a weak man. To-day, he was a traitor 
 to his king and to his country ; he was un- 
 worthy of a noble name : he was a degraded 
 soldier, and a bad brother. 
 
 To those who are weak, life is but a dan- 
 gerous lottery. Old age may come to a few, 
 but the majority fall by the wayside after 
 having tasted of the cup of shame. With 
 them honor, fidelity and honesty are like the 
 gaudy colors on cheap fabrics. In the 
 morning, they are dazzling ; at night, after 
 they have been caught in a shower, they are 
 tarnished and faded. 
 
 In Roger, Bertrand only saw the unfortu- 
 nate, not the guilty man. Generous and de- 
 voted like all those who are strong, he had 
 decided from the very first to draw the storm
 
 248 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 upon himself so as to save his brother. But 
 he did not wish to disclose his object, for 
 fear of meeting with opposition on the part 
 of Roger. The latter imagined himself a 
 prisoner ; he did not wish to enlighten him. 
 Therefore, when Roger commanded him to 
 leave the room, he immediately retired. As 
 he was a prisoner, he was compelled to 
 remain in the little hall which connected 
 with the dungeon. As he stood there, intend- 
 ing to give his brother the impression that he 
 had left the prison altogether, a key turned 
 in the lock of the door and a soldier entered, 
 followed by a woman heavily veiled. 
 
 " You may come in, madame," said the 
 soldier. " The orders are unusually strict, 
 but, were they to hang me I could not refuse 
 you permission to see monsieur le baron if it 
 made him happy to see you." 
 
 And this same sentiment was echoed 
 throughout the regiment. Bertrand was 
 popular among the men by reason of his 
 kindness and bravery. 
 
 The lady now removed her veil. It was 
 Mile, de Montme'ril. 
 
 Bertrand was not prepared for this visit. 
 The sight of Reine softened his heart. He 
 felt his resolution wavering. The passion, 
 which he thought was subdued forever, once 
 more made its appearance, and the struggle
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 249 
 
 was even more determined than ever before. 
 He loved Reine with that passionate and 
 profound love which comes but once to a man 
 in the course of his lifetime. 
 
 " I was resigned to my fate," he muttered; 
 " why has God sent me this bitter cup ? " 
 
 Bertrand, concealing his confusion, bowed 
 with respectful dignity and gravely pointed 
 to the single chair which graced the ante- 
 chamber of the prison. But Reine declined 
 to be seated. 
 
 " Monsieur," she began, " I have called 
 here in compliance with my father's wishes." 
 
 " And can M. de Montme'ril restore to us 
 our honor ? " 
 
 " Your honor ! " exclaimed Reine with a 
 movement of surprise. "It is your liberty 
 which is in question. And, by the saints in 
 Heaven ! " she added, unable to sustain the 
 role she was playing any longer ; " why do 
 you speak to me thus, Bertrand ! What have 
 I done ? What is wrong with you since yes- 
 terday ? " 
 
 " Since yesterday ! " murmured the captain. 
 " Ah ! I have been very unhappy since yester- 
 day, mademoiselle ! " 
 
 " But it is not yet too late" Reine began. 
 
 " Pardon me, but it is ! " replied Bertrand. 
 " You were saying that my liberty was at 
 stake ? "
 
 250 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 " I have come here to save you. In a 
 quarter of an hour the sentries will be 
 changed ; they have been bribed and you 
 will be permitted to escape." 
 
 " Can this be true ? " eagerly asked the 
 captain. 
 
 " Everything is in readiness ! " continued 
 Reine. " The horses are already saddled." 
 
 " Thank God, he will be saved ! " exclaimed 
 Bertrand. 
 
 Love had again been defeated. His noble 
 nature had once more asserted itself. 
 
 Reine was at a loss to understand this allu- 
 sion to another. 
 
 11 Of whom do you speak ? " she asked. 
 
 " Listen : It is through you that he is un- 
 fortunate ; your father was the cause of his 
 crime. Your debt is heavy : you must pay it, 
 mademoiselle." 
 
 " It is you whom I have come to save." 
 
 " And I tell you that it is he whom you 
 will assist to escape ! Roger, my poor bro- 
 ther, whose future was so promising only 
 yesterday ; and who loves you so that he sac- 
 rificed everything, aye, even his honor to 
 prove his devotion ! " 
 
 " But you, Bertrand you ! " 
 
 " I, mademoiselle " 
 
 But Bertrand's lips refused to consummate 
 the sacrifice.
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 251 
 
 After a short silence he summoned up the 
 courage to add : 
 
 " Why, I/ do not love you ! " 
 
 Reine leaned against the cold stone of the 
 prison wall for support. 
 
 " You see you must save him ! " added 
 Bertrand with emphasis. 
 
 " Yes," replied Reine, recalling her woman- 
 ly pride ; " I am ready to save your brother, 
 monsieur." 
 
 Roger was reclining on the cot when they 
 entered. At the sight of Reine he started to 
 his feet. He could not credit his senses. 
 
 When they told him to follow Reine, he did 
 so without hesitation. He never waited to 
 reason how it was that they permitted him, a 
 prisoner, to pass unchallenged. Neither did 
 he notice that his brother remained behind 
 in the dungeon. He did not even have a 
 parting word for Bertrand. Reine was there. 
 In her he saw his salvation she was his 
 world, his all ! He therefore followed her as 
 a somnambulist follows the magnetic power 
 which lures him on. 
 
 Reine, on the contrary, could not repress 
 a sigh which penetrated to the inmost recess 
 of Bertrand's heart as the door of the prison 
 closed upon the two beings he so dearly 
 loved. 
 
 And when the rattle of chains and the
 
 252 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 beating of horses' hoofs, a little later, warned 
 him of his brother's escape, he raised his eyes 
 to heaven and thanked God for having given 
 him the courage to stand this trying ordeal. 
 ***** 
 
 There were garlands of flowers around the 
 venerable pillars of the chateau of Saint- 
 Maugon. The gilded coat of arms of the de 
 Mauguers scintillated in the lights of a thou- 
 sand torches. This was eighteen months 
 after the events we have just related. 
 
 " M. le baron de Kerhuan may boast that 
 his wife is the handsomest woman in Brit- 
 tany," remarked young de Kercornbec. 
 
 " You might have added the most beautiful 
 woman in the world," chimed in little Tre"gaz 
 with his Nantais accent. 
 
 Then the inhabitants of Vitre", Saint-Breuc, 
 Vannes and Saint-Malo had their little say on 
 the subject; after which M. de Kercornbec 
 continued in his most musical voice: 
 
 " The poor baron had a lucky escape, you 
 remember, messieurs, about eighteen months 
 ago. If those confounded peasants had not 
 set Colonel de Gadagne at liberty, the eldest 
 Saint-Maugon would have permitted himself 
 to be condemned in his brother's stead." 
 
 " To tell the truth, Gilbert de Gadagne re- 
 turned just in the nick of time. It was he 
 who had assigned young Roger de Saint-
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 253 
 
 Maugon to the old chateau. His testimony 
 saved the baron's life." 
 
 A valet, carrying a salver laden with 
 delicious wines, happened to pass at that 
 moment. " I propose the health of the newly 
 married couple ! " exclaimed M. de Chateau- 
 trubel. 
 
 This motion was accepted with enthu- 
 siasm. 
 
 " And what has become of Roger, may I 
 ask ? " ventured little de Tregaz. 
 
 " He was dead in love with Mile, de Mont- 
 meril, who is now la baronne de Kerhuan. 
 But the beautiful Reine never loved him. 
 When M. de Gadagne's testimony revealed 
 the truth, Roger, who was in hiding in the 
 chateau of Montmeril, took to his heels." 
 
 " He was a good fellow, but he was awfully 
 weak." 
 
 " That may all be, messieurs," interrupted 
 Chateautrubel ; " but he died like a man and 
 a true Breton. He was killed before Algiers, 
 and he fell fighting for his king." 
 
 A stranger entered the salon at this 
 moment. His slouched hat completely con- 
 cealed his features. He wore the double 
 sword-knot which denoted the rank of captain 
 in those days. He smiled as he overheard 
 the above remark. 
 
 During this time, Bertrand de Saint-Mau-
 
 254 ROMANTIC LIBRARY. 
 
 gon, seated besides his wife, was thoughtful 
 even in the midst of his happiness. 
 
 " You appear sad, Bertrand," tenderly 
 remarked Reine. 
 
 " I am indeed happy," replied the captain, 
 " because you are my wife and you love me. 
 But my father placed him in my charge on 
 his death-bed. He was not only my brother 
 but a son as well. Poor Roger ! " 
 
 " Poor Roger ! " repeated Reine. 
 
 " My brother ! my noble brother ! " said a 
 voice at their side. Then Bertrand felt him- 
 self raised in a pair of strong arms, while two 
 lips were pressed tightly upon his own. 
 
 The stranger's hat fell off and revealed 
 Roger, browned by the hot African sun. 
 
 Bertrand uttered a cry of joy. 
 
 " By my faith ! " murmured young de Ker- 
 cornbec, " it seems that he is not dead, 
 after all. On the contrary, he has been pro- 
 moted." 
 
 " I wanted to take part in your happiness," 
 added Roger ; " I rejoin my regiment to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " What ! So soon ? " exclaimed Reine. 
 
 " Sister let me call you thus " replied 
 the young man with a tremor in his voice, 
 " deeds of valor alone can efface the shame of 
 the past." 
 
 " God is just ! " murmured Bertrand.
 
 A NOBLE SACRIFICE. 255 
 
 " He has given me those I love Reine, my 
 wife ; and Roger, my brother my son ! " 
 
 Then M. de Chateautrubel proposed to 
 drink the health of the prodigal, just retui ned. 
 A proposition that was unanimously seconded 
 by M. de Kercornbec and M. de Tre'gaz, and 
 by the inhabitants of Vitre", Saint-Brieuc, 
 Vannes and Saint-Malo. 
 
 THE END.
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed. 
 
 iMtf
 
 UC SOUTHS* HHW*.